


As Desperate As That Sounds

by BigBadLittleRed



Series: Captain Invincible and the Invisible Cunt [1]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Autistic Simon Bellamy, Developing Relationship, Let's just say near death experiences change him, M/M, Mentions of Suicide Attempt, Nathan Young Being Nathan Young, Nathan Young Has Feelings, Nathan might be a little OOC, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Series 1 Finale AU, Simon saves Nathan on the roof, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23358697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBadLittleRed/pseuds/BigBadLittleRed
Summary: “Are you all right?” Simon mutters, reaching up and hesitantly brushing his fingers against Nathan’s shoulder where it rests on his chest.“All right?!” Nathan sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “I’m brilliant! You saved my life, Barry!” He grins ear to ear, and Simon exhales nervously with a small smile as Nathan laughs almost hysterically.
Relationships: Simon Bellamy/Nathan Young
Series: Captain Invincible and the Invisible Cunt [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042572
Comments: 78
Kudos: 465





	1. Saint Barry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( I've had this idea for a long time and it's been a WIP in my folder since this time last year probably. I hope you like it! The title is based on Jon Bellion's song Woke the F*ck Up. )

Simon hears the commotion from the storeroom he’s hiding out in, and for a moment he debates ignoring it. He technically was safe in this room, his only company being the frozen corpse of the probation worker he had accidently killed. He feels a bit bad for leaving Nathan behind, but he was always being a prick and he deserved a little payback. It wasn’t like Virtue was going to kill him or anything, he sort of wanted to see what Nathan would be like with manners and morals. Scary, probably, it just wouldn’t be right.

He finishes his ice cream just as loud shouting turns into footsteps racing upstairs. Simon knows he can’t just sit around and do nothing, so he pulls the desk out of the way of the door. For a moment, he pauses and takes a deep breath, concentrating so that he can activate his power. It’s gotten a lot easier since it first developed, and he found it quite useful.

Simon makes his way upstairs, finding the main roof door locked. He curses quietly under his breath and then heads around, knowing that there’s a fire escape around back. He can hear Nathan giving some ridiculous speech as he ascends the metal stairs, and spots Nathan struggling with Rachel. Nathan looks like he’s trying to annoy her, but there’s a gun between them and he really has no idea what the fuck Nathan is doing.

He walks across the roof hurriedly, the two of them shouting and pushing and shoving. Rachel slips back off the roof, and then Nathan is spinning and tilting back with her. Simon’s eyes widen and he loses focus on his power in order to reach out and clasp Nathan’s hand with his own. The young man is wind-milling his free arm, his heels off the edge of the roof and his body bowed backwards. Simon can see the terror on Nathan’s face, something real and raw.

“Save me, Barry!” He shouts, and Simon grabs onto the other side of his hand with his own.

Nathan’s hand is damp, slippery in his own, so he pulls and leans back. Simon collapses back onto the roof, slinging Nathan with him, and the other collapses on top of him in a heap. Nathan’s long limbs are tangled up on Simon, and he feels too drained to actually try to move. They just sit there, the concrete digging into Simon’s back and Nathan’s knee in his thigh. The both of them are mildly out of breath, not from exhaustion but exhilaration.

Simon can hear the crowd shouting and talking hurriedly, Rachel having hit the ground below. There would be police involved, Simon just hoped Nathan wouldn’t be implicated for this. As much of an ass he was, he didn’t deserve to go to prison for trying to save everyone.

“Are you all right?” Simon mutters, reaching up and hesitantly brushing his fingers against Nathan’s shoulder where it rests on his chest.

“All right?!” Nathan sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “I’m brilliant! You saved my life, Barry!” He grins ear to ear, and Simon exhales nervously with a small smile as Nathan laughs almost hysterically.

Nathan rolls off of him to lay on the roof next to him, one of his arms barely overlapping Simon’s. He feels a niggling of annoyance at his friend, because even after saving his life, he can’t remember his damn name. All he ever did was insult Simon, call him names and bug him, and not even saving his life had changed that.

“It’s Simon.” He says.

“I know,” Simon turns his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “I was just fucking with you.” He admits.

“Why? I’ve never done anything to you.” Simon sits up, Nathan follows suit and wraps his arms around his knees.

He looks so strange in a suit; his hair is damp from the rain, but it also looks like it had been combed. Usually it was nothing more than a mildly contained mop atop his head. His face is scrunched in that expression he often adorned that looked something akin to confusion and deep thought. He pulls in a breath and sighs it out, then twists his mouth up and looks at Simon with a small shrug.

“It’s not personal, mate.” He offers, Simon shakes his head.

“Then why me?” He demands. Nathan owes him that much, he owes Simon his life.

“It’s just how I am, man.” He gets up then, holds out a hand for Simon. “Let’s go check and make sure the Virtue Virgin spell has broken.” He flashes a bright smile, and Simon takes his hand.

They head downstairs, and although Nathan’s teasing has yet to leave his mind, he feels less angry about it. Nathan often seemed off, like the way he functioned just wasn’t anything compared to the way the others did. They were all separate people, vastly different individuals, but Nathan was a whole other level of eccentricities. It wasn’t like he didn’t pick on the others, maybe he just saw it bothered Simon more. Which seemed fucked up, but some people got off on a reaction, and Nathan was definitely one of those people.

The others are pouring into the community center, all wearing their drab clothes but looking a little less like robots. Nathan dances down the stairs to meet the rest of them, Simon lingering behind as they all begin to chatter. He looks at them and thinks of the body hidden in the storeroom, knows that he made the right choice in protecting them.

“Barry saved my life!” Nathan crows excitedly as Simon reaches the base of the stairs and walks over to join them.

“Who’s Barry?” Curtis asks, puzzled.

“It’s Simon.” Simon reminds him, but Nathan simply wraps an arm over his shoulder and tugs him in.

“Saint Barry, then.” He offers, as if it were a compromise of some sort. “I love this little prick!” He then tightens his grip around Simon’s neck and grinds his fist into the smaller young man’s head.

“Nathan!” He complains, shoving the other away and then quickly reaching up to fix his mussed hair.

“Where did you get this suit?” Alisha laughs, plucking at the blazer Nathan is wearing with mild disgust.

“My mum bought it for me to wear to court, thought if I looked like a proper virgin then I’d get off.” Nathan grins at them, not embarrassed in the slightest. “Didn’t matter much anyway, the judge recognized me from my last arrest.” He admits.

“What’d you do before?” Kelly asks warily.

“How was I supposed to know that I could get arrested for streaking in the shopping centre?” He throws his hands up, as if the world is conspiring against him.

“You’re mental.” Curtis shakes his head, Nathan throws him an irritated look.

“Oh, _thank_ you for saving us, Nathan! Thank you _so_ much for risking your life to free us from the cult!” He mocks, then turns to Simon. “Can you believe this shit, Barry?” He demands, Simon fights a smile and glances away. Nathan didn’t need to be encouraged to be a dick any more than he already was.

“Dickhead.” Kelly smacks him on the shoulder, Nathan rubs at it exaggeratedly with a frown.

“That’s no way to repay your savior!” He insists, then flashes a flirty smile and taps his lips. “How about a kiss, love?” He asks.

“In your dreams.” Kelly plants a palm on his face and pushes him away.

“Oh, c’mon! It’s only fair!” Nathan bats his long eyelashes (not that Simon noticed they were long or anything, you’d have to be blind to miss that) at them.

“Why don’t you repay your savior, then?” Alisha retorts, Nathan looks stunned for a fraction of a second and his head swings around to look at Simon, then back to the rest of the gang.

“All right!” He turns quickly, and before Simon can move away, he’s grabbing the smaller man by the face and pressing their lips together.

Nathan’s lips are damp and soft, puckered up awkwardly like he doesn’t know how to kiss. Simon doesn’t really know how to kiss either, and the attack has left him overwhelmed and frozen in place. Nathan stays a little too long, always the one to take a joke too far. But then he yanks away, still holding Simon’s face and grinning ear to ear.

“Jesus,” Curtis laughs, shaking his head.

“You’re welcome!” Nathan tells him without a hint of remorse, Simon’s face feels hot and he’s certainly blushing. He fixes his hair nervously with a trembling hand, his shoulders tense.

“Leave ‘im alone, Nathan.” Kelly smacks Nathan on the back of the head, the young man bringing up his shoulders with a scowl.

“Stop hitting me!” He whines, stomping his foot like a child.

“I’m going to get changed.” Alisha says suddenly, Curtis moves off to follow her.

“You look like a nun, y’know.” Nathan tells Kelly, who punches him in the arm. “Ow!”

They watch as Kelly leaves towards the locker room behind Alisha and Curtis. Nathan turns away once she disappears around the corner, looking to Simon. He suddenly feels under scrutiny, expecting some sort of joke or taunt. Instead, Nathan just glances away and sticks his hands in his pockets. He looks happy, content and carefree, an easy smile on his face. Simon wishes he were Kelly, so he could hear what the other might be thinking about.

“Well, since the probation worker has yet to show up, the lazy cunt.” Nathan looks around, like his words might just summon the woman from thin air. “And that bitch outside is dead, I should probably get lost.” He murmurs, turning away and starting to head towards the doors.

“W-Wait!” Simon calls out, Nathan freezes in his steps, turning his head to look back at Simon. “I…” He brings a hand up, smoothing his hair down anxiously once more.

“It’s all right if you liked the kiss.” Nathan tells him with a flirty smirk. “You’re only human, nobody can resist my charms.” He boasts.

“I need to show you something.” He blurts, Nathan makes a face and steps closer to him.

“It’s not your cock, is it?” He asks, Simon scowls. “All right, just checking.” He holds up his hands in surrender, Simon glances around nervously and then heads off towards the back.

Nathan follows obediently, chattering idly about how dashing he would look if he were a posh wanker. He’s busy admiring himself, Simon blocks him out and tries to calm himself as his heart starts to race. He wanted to tell the others, but he was scared to find out what their reactions would be. He opens the storeroom door, then glances around before stepping inside. Nathan pauses in the doorway, making another comical expression, this one more cautious than anything else.

“If this is about all that freak, weird kid, pedophile shit… You don’t have to kill me, mate.” He mutters.

Oh, the irony.

“The probation worker,” Simon says with a hiss, Nathan frowns and steps into the room. He shuts the door behind him, plunging them into the darkness.

“Monique?” Nathan asks.

“Wh- No! Sally!” He insists, Nathan scrunches up his face and makes a mildly puzzled noise. “She found out about us, about the other probation worker.” He admits.

“What?!” Nathan shouts, eyes blown wide in horror. “Does she have proof? Oh, Christ, I’m too beautiful for prison, I’ll get gang-raped for sure!” He drags his fingers through his hair in distress.

“No, she…” He glances back to the freezer, unease knotting in his stomach. “She attacked me.” He confesses.

Realization dawns on Nathan’s face. “Barry, what did you do?” His eyes follow Simon’s gaze to the freezer and then back to the smaller man. “ _P_ _lease_ tell me there isn’t a dead body in there.” He pleads with a bit of a whine in his voice.

“I did it for you, for all of you, I couldn’t let her tell!” He waves a stiff arm, Nathan sighs and walks over to the freezer. He throws open the lid, groaning miserably at the sight of the dead body.

“Jesus, why can’t we be fucking normal?” He stares down at the body of their probation worker for a few extra seconds and then slams the freezer shut.

“I’m sorry.” Simon says quietly, he knows that this puts them in further danger. He hadn’t meant to do it, he had just been so angry, Sally had used him. “She used me, s-she… I thought she liked me.” He mutters with frustration.

“Well,” Nathan pulls in a long inhale, exhaling loudly. “I never liked her anyways, so I guess it doesn’t matter. What’s another dead probation worker? It’s not like this is creating a _pattern_ or anything of the sort that could be tracked back to us.” He says sarcastically with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“What are we going to do with the body?” Simon asks, clasping nervous hands together in front of him.

“I’m the good-looking one, not the mastermind, you come up with something!” He gestures at Simon, who scowls and rolls his eyes.

They’re both quiet for a moment, which is pretty odd for Nathan. The taller of the two slides himself up to sit atop the freezer, slumping forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. Simon watches him quietly, waiting for him to say or do something crazy. Instead, he just looks tired in the dim light, out of his element and already odd-looking merely because of his outfit.

“Maybe the others can think of something.” Nathan murmurs.

“No!” Nathan visibly startles at the loud objection. “N-No, they can’t know.” He shakes his head insistently.

“Well, why the hell not?!” Nathan demands, sliding off the freezer and pressing his hands to his hips.

“Because!” Simon exclaims weakly, desperately searching his brain for something not totally embarrassing. “Be-Because they’re my friends, and I don’t… want them to hate me.” He says honestly after a moment.

“Jesus, Barry, you’re such a homo, you know that?” He scoffs, Simon glares at the taller man.

“You just kissed me!”

“I’m not claiming to be straight, I’m just sayin’!” And that’s not the reply he’s expecting, Nathan always manages to throw him for a loop with almost everything he says, and this is no different. “You think any of those bastards likes me? I’m not cryin’ about it in the storeroom!” He rants.

“I…” Simon shakes his head, a bit baffled. “I-I don’t have… any other friends.” He says quietly.

“You think I have a shit ton myself? You’re not anything special, Barry!” Nathan has a weak smile on his face, but the words are far too serious to seem like an actual joke. Simon is pretty sure that he’s in some sort of weird fever dream. The both of them standing in the dark, Nathan trying to convince him of something by confessing to something that seems too vulnerable for someone like him to understand let alone allow others to hear coming from him.

Nathan sighs, he looks stressed, palms a hand over his mouth and sighs once more. He paces a single line, then returns to his original place, leaning back against the freezer. It’s strange that Nathan isn’t running out to tell them regardless of Simon’s opinion, it’s not like he gave a shit about it before. Maybe having a near death experience shook him up, he did almost plummet off a building after all. Simon makes up his mind then and crosses his arms firmly.

“Fine, we’ll tell them.” He turns away, reaching for the doorknob, and then suddenly Nathan is slamming into him. He presses his hands to the door to keep it closed, boxing Simon in awkwardly.

“No.” He says quickly, Simon spins around in his grasp to look him in the eyes. He’s rather close, their faces only a couple of inches apart. Nathan’s breath smells minty, but only vaguely so.

“You just said…” Simon looks at him with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“I know what I said, I changed my mind.” He grunts, then moves back. “We’ll get rid of the body, the less people know about this, the better.” He explains.

“Why?” Simon questions. “What changed your mind?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d agree with me!” He complains, turning away and opening up the freezer. He reaches in and grabs out an ice cream, Simon rolls his eyes again. “Nobody ever listens to me, I forgot you don’t have balls.” He shrugs.

“Shut up.”

“Oooh, was that a hint of stern authority I heard?” Nathan is smirking as he unwraps his ice cream, not even looking at Simon.

“What are we going to do with the body?” Simon demands, clenching his fists at his sides impatiently.

“Fuck if I know, you’re the one who killed the cunt. Like I said, I’m the looks of this team.” He opens the freezer again, gesturing into it with his now open ice cream. “They’ve got Cornettos, man.” He says with a bright smile.

“Can’t you take anything serious?” Simon asks.

“I called my priest a pedophile at my confirmation, so no, I don’t think so.” He snorts.

Nathan reaches in and pulls out another ice cream, handing it over to him. Simon takes it, even though he knows they should be figuring things out. He had already eaten one earlier, but he hadn’t eaten lunch, he was too busy being chased down by brainwashed freaks. He carefully unwraps the ice cream, frowning down at it.

“You’re Catholic?” He asks.

“I’m Irish,” Nathan says, as if it were obvious.

“I never thought about it.” He shakes his head, regretting his words.

“It’s bullshit anyway, man.” Nathan nibbles at his ice cream, talking while chewing at the chocolate and peanuts. “They want to talk about right and wrong while all the priests are diddling little boys.” He flashes another amused smile, there’s chocolate on one of his teeth.

“Right.” Simon says, unsure of what else he’s supposed to say.

They both sit on the freezer and eat their ice creams in the dark, and for some reason it’s not that awkward. Neither of them seems uncomfortable, and while Simon feels awkward, he doesn’t feel like the talk between them is forced. Nathan chatters on about one thing and another, but eventually he runs back around to something a little more relevant.

“So how’d you do it?” He asks, munching on his cone.

“Do what?” Simon murmurs, just now getting down to his own cone.

“You know,” He kicks his heels against the freezer beneath them, takes another bite of his cone and talks with his mouth full once more. “How’d you do her in?” He smirks.

“I-It was an accident.” He says quietly.

“Did you _accidentally_ shag her corpse as well?” Nathan asks.

“No!” Simon feels his hackles rising. “You should be nicer to me.” He says with a point of his finger.

“And why’s that?” Nathan replies playfully, shoving the rest of his treat into his mouth.

“Because you’re alone in a storeroom with a guy who killed someone.” Simon tells him, trying to maintain a serious expression. Nathan looks mildly confused if not a bit concerned before Simon’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Jesus Christ, Barry, that’s dark!” Nathan barks out a laugh, obviously amused. “But seriously, man, what happened? You were kissing her ass one day and stuffing her into a freezer the next.” He nudges his shoulder into Simon’s.

“She was looking for evidence of us killing Tony, he was her fiancé.” He explains, fidgeting with his sleeve. Nathan reaches over and takes the rest of Simon’s cone from his hand without asking, Simon lets him. He doesn’t want it anyway, and soon it would get soggy and gross.

“So what? She thought you had evidence?” He asks, Simon looks guiltily at the floor. “Barry, _do_ _you_ have evidence?” He questions in suspicion.

“I filmed you saying some things, she saw it.” He confesses. “Sh-She stole my phone!” He says desperately as Nathan scoffs and hops off the freezer, looking rather ticked.

“You and your perverted tendencies!” Nathan snaps, throwing the remainder of Simon’s cone on the floor along with his own wrapper.

“I’m not a pervert!” Simon insists, it’s ridiculous how many times he’s had to repeat himself to Nathan.

“Did you get rid of the evidence?” Nathan demands impatiently.

“Yes, I deleted it.” He promises, stepping closer to Nathan. “I didn’t mean it, she just…” He shakes his head, embarrassed.

“She suck your cock or something?” Nathan asks with his eyes narrowed, not yet appeased but still managing to be brash in his word choice.

“N-No…” He shakes his head, turning his eyes down. “I liked her, she was nice.” He murmurs.

“Christ, Barry, your desperate virgin ass is going to get us all thrown in the slammer.” Nathan shoves at him, but it’s not overly rough, he staggers back a step anyway.

Simon crosses his arms, feeling under ridicule. He knows he made a mistake, he was stupid, and he fell for her bullshit. He knows that he tended to be naïve, mostly when it came to social situations. Sally had tuned into that, took his eagerness to please and be normal and used it against him.

“I didn’t mean to.” He grumbles.

“Look, don’t worry about it, man.” Nathan places a hand on his shoulder, Simon meets his eyes. “This stays between us, right?” He looks suddenly serious, and Simon finds himself nodding earnestly in response.

Nathan turns away, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door a bit.

“Nathan,” The other turns his head, looking back at him with a frown. “Thanks.” He says.

“Whatever, just keep it in your pants.” He slips out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him and leaving Simon in the dark again, this time all by himself.


	2. Late Night Visit

Nathan disappears from the community center, and by some great miracle, nobody mentions him. Sure, their group wouldn’t try to point fingers because Nathan has some serious dirt on all of them and could take them down with him. It’s a little more than that in Simon’s opinion, a sort of mutual trust, but sometimes he thinks in Curtis and Alisha’s case it’s mostly the group murder and body hiding that leads the way. However, it seems that everyone under Rachel’s influence either doesn’t remember Nathan at all or is keeping quiet because he saved them from a life of being a prude.

They all pretty much have the same story, Rachel was ranting up on the roof, slipped, and plummeted to her death. Nobody mentions a word about Nathan, and Simon can feel himself starting to relax as the investigation turns away from all of them. He doesn’t want to have to break Nathan out of prison or something ridiculous like that. The fact that he’d be willing to break Nathan out of prison really is saying something though, isn’t it? Simon finds himself staying late at the community center, to see if Nathan will return.

He hides in the storage room with Sally’s body, snacking on some chips and a candy bar he got from the vending machine. He can hear the janitor walking about, the lights shutting off, and then after a while there’s only quiet. That’s when he leaves the room, wandering the halls of the center in the dim light as the sun sets beyond the lake and the horizon of buildings in the distance. It’s a bit eerie, though this place is always strangely empty except for events so it often gives that feeling of a school after all the kids have gone home during the day.

Simon digs around, looks through rooms and pushes himself around in a wheelchair. Nathan and Curtis like to race wheelchairs, but Simon’s not coordinated enough for that. He started working out as of late, but maybe he should lift weights or something. Curtis and Nathan cheat anyway, Nathan once stuck a broom in the spokes of the wheel of the chair Simon was in just to screw him over. Simon had gotten a little angry, more so than he probably should have. But he always did have a problem with controlling his temper, it’s the reason he’s in this position in the first place.

It’s dark and getting late when Simon is starting to debate going home. For all he knows, Nathan is spending the night at a friend’s house and is currently laying low. Despite his earlier offering that he didn’t really have any friends, that could have easily been a lie or manipulation tactic.

Maybe he even went home to his mum’s house, although she had been the one to kick him out apparently. He had mentioned it in passing, complained about how she changed the locks on him. Simon wonders what garnered that sort of intense reaction, Nathan must have done something really awful to have his own mother kick him to the curb so egregiously.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone walking the halls nearby. Simon quietly walks towards the foyer, peeking through the window in the door to see if it’s actually Nathan. He spots the head of curly hair immediately, observes Nathan while he climbs the stairs up to the mezzanine and collapses onto his mattress next to the rails. Simon has disappeared before he knows what he’s doing, gliding into the foyer and up the stairs without hesitation.

When he reaches the top of the loft, Nathan is curled up on his side staring into the dark. There’s a smell of alcohol, and Nathan’s shirt looks damp, Simon crouches down. He watches the other’s eyes, heavy lidded and fluttering dangerously as sleep threatens to take him. Now that he’s closer he can hear a quiet noise, Nathan humming softly in his throat as his eyes shut. It’s such a strange thing, staring at Nathan while he falls asleep, but Simon is a rather strange guy.

Nathan’s eyes open and then he shoots upright, he knocks his head against the railing when he jerks back with a startled scream. Simon falls onto his ass in surprise, not having realized that he had allowed himself to reappear. Nathan had just looked so peaceful, the sight of him still and sleepy is a bit calming in a way Nathan’s energetic daily self never was.

“What the fuck are you doing, you fuckin’ pervert?!” He demands shrilly.

“I-I was…” He scrambles for an excuse, words, anything. His mouth hangs open uselessly, fragments of noises escaping him as he searches for something to say.

“Watchin’ me sleep!” Nathan finishes for him heatedly.

“N-No! Well,” He grimaces, he really had been, hadn’t he? “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” He says quickly.

“If I wanted a nosey girlfriend, I’d get a prettier one.” Nathan replies, reaching up to wipe tiredly at his eyes with a sigh. “Have you moved the body yet?” He asks.

Oh. Yes, they _were_ supposed to do that.

“No.”

“Oh, Barry, do we have to do it tonight? I’m pissed.” He whines, slumping over onto his pillow limply.

“N-No, I suppose not.” He allows, Nathan curls up on his bed a little tighter with a quiet groan.

“Good,” He mutters, then peeks an eye open. “Did the police ask about me? Kelly didn’t message me.” He questions.

“Nobody said a word, as far as the police know, you weren’t even there.” He says, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Well that’s a relief, if I went to prison, I’d have to use my body for favors.” He sighs, eyes slipping shut.

“Shouldn’t you take off those clothes and get in bed?” Simon asks hesitantly after a few seconds of quiet.

Nathan responds to his comment with a groan, then rolls over onto his back and sprawls out on his mattress. Simon should leave, he knows that, but at the same time this bothers him a bit. Nathan’s in his jeans, who sleeps in their jeans? His shirt is wet, he looks a little sweaty, he smells like he’s had liquor spilled onto him. Simon sits up on his knees and shuffles over, hovering over Nathan nervously. For a moment, he just watches Nathan’s chest rise and fall. His fingers twitch at one point, but he seems to be slowly falling asleep.

“Nathan?” He pitches his voice extremely soft, afraid of Nathan going off on him.

He only earns a sleepy hum in reply, Nathan not moving from his spot and his eyes remaining firmly shut. Simon starts to weigh his options, and although the rational part of his brain insists that Nathan is just fine and should be left alone, something else in him disagrees. Instead of leaving, he leans down and takes a gentle hold of Nathan’s hoodie sleeve, grabbing at his shoulder softly to try and slide the fabric off. It takes all of a few seconds before Nathan’s eyes blearily open again.

“Barry, _what_?” He whines at being disturbed, obviously displeased.

Again, with that name… Simon had already told him his name, and Nathan had told him he knew. He was just fucking with him, which meant even now he was still messing about. Maybe it was sort of like a nickname, he guessed he didn’t mind it so much then.

“I-I was just trying to… help you get comfortable.” He explains weakly.

“I sleep on a piece of foam with a wool blanket and no pillow, Barry.” He replies dryly, not moving from his position as he squints up at Simon. “Nothing’s comfortable, you twat.”

And well, that just kind of makes Simon sad. Not the insult, it’s uninspired and unspecific, Simon barely registers those anymore. They feel more like punctuation on Nathan’s sentences than hurtful words at this point to be honest. No, this sad is just at the fact that Nathan has to live like this. In fact, it triggers his apology reflex and he has to swallow back his ‘sorry’, knowing that Nathan might mistake it for pity.

“W-Well,” He searches for something to say, his fingers still gently tucked in Nathan’s hoodie sleeve. “You could sleep over at my place sometime.” He offers, and what the absolute hell is he doing?

“What?” Nathan still has those tired squinty eyes, lip curled back in a mix of confusion and mild disgust.

“M-My mum works late an-and my dad travels for work so he’s not home a lot.” He explains carefully, and there’s a tiny voice in his head that’s screaming for him to shut up because this will not end well. “My sister won’t tell if you stay over.”

“Is this about the kiss?” Nathan sits up suddenly, looking a bit more awake. His eyes are a little glassy, he’s definitely drunk, and Simon knows he should have turned around and left the moment he knew Nathan was okay. “Mate, this is actually getting a bit sad.”

“No!” Simon denies immediately, his cheeks starting to color. “I’m just… I just want to be your friend.” He confesses.

“Oh,” Nathan blinks, his bottom lip sticks out in a bit of a frown as he glances down at his legs. After a fraction of a second, he looks up at Simon and he can see the humor return to his face. “Do your friends try to take your clothes off, Barry?” He asks, in a faux whisper.

“You stink like liquor.” He replies.

“Everyone’s a critic!” Nathan complains, his voice loud enough to echo out beyond the mezzanine and down into the foyer. “Fine, fine!” He starts struggling with his jacket, flings it right at Simon when he manages to remove it.

Simon holds the jacket in his lap while Nathan squirms and writhes about to shimmy out of his clothes. His shoes come off, then his jeans, and after his shirt is gone he’s left only in his underwear as he climbs under the aforementioned wool blanket. He takes his mostly empty duffel bag and pulls it under his head as a pillow, curling up away from Simon with a sigh.

“Happy now, pervert?” He grouses from his place, Simon twists Nathan’s jacket in his hands quietly as he slowly gets up. His silence must not please Nathan, because he turns his head. “Barry?”

Simon unfolds the jacket from its tangle and leans over, draping it over Nathan. The action pulls another frown from Nathan, who looks up at him, puzzled. Simon stares down at him a moment, thinking about how long Nathan’s been staying in this dingy place with barely any money and eating out of vending machines. Sure, Nathan’s a complete ass, but Simon has a sort of affection for him regardless.

“Good night, Nathan.” He murmurs, turning away and walking over to the stairs. He earns no sarcastic reply or joking retort, and he descends the stairs quietly. It’s only when he’s stepping across the foyer and pulling open the door when he hears Nathan’s voice.

“Night, Barry.”

Simon glances back briefly from his spot, at the dark lump behind the rails of the balcony across the room. He thinks for a moment he can see Nathan waving, but he can’t be sure. He ducks out into the night.

-

The next day, Simon arrives at the community center expecting a lot of things. He expects the cops to still be snooping around, the roof is still cordoned off as evidence and he can see the caution tape from the ground outside. He expects more questioning from the police, who were probably at this point just trying to cross their T’s and dot their I’s to finish up the paperwork. He mostly is expecting Nathan to be teasing him about the night before, or maybe avoiding him all together. He’s more than a little nervous about it, but he also knows that Nathan is a twat and he expects that sort of behavior so it should lessen the blows.

However, when he shows up, there are no police in sight and the group are gathered in the foyer. Kelly and Alisha are sitting in two of five chairs gathered in the middle of the room. The both of them are chatting idly, both of them staring at their phones as they do so. Curtis and Nathan are at the foosball table, Curtis hunched over in what looks to be quiet frustration as Nathan scores and lets out an excited holler.

“That’s gotta sting, man. Apologies on losing your manhood.” He says jokingly, stepping back from the game with a small smile.

“Shut up, you prick.” Curtis snaps at him, hitting one of the handles and sending it spinning.

“Barry!” He’s already turned towards the locker room when he hears the voice, glancing back to find Nathan racing across the room to greet him.

“Yeah?” He waits for Nathan to catch up with him, then starts into the locker room.

“I came in this morning and the probation worker was shaggin’ this broad in his office!” Nathan hisses at him, grabbing his shoulder as he rushes past in an excited manner. He slams into the lockers, Simon winces at the sight but Nathan doesn’t seem to be affected, just grins at him.

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow, approaching his locker.

“She wasn’t ugly, but all that hot Italian girlfriend shit was definitely a lie.” He does a little spin and then slings himself onto the bench between the two locker aisles. “Also, I don’t think she’s Italian, she sounds like she’s from Cardiff.” He snorts.

“I’m from Cardiff.” Simon says carefully as he slides his denim jacket off.

“No, you aren’t.” Nathan argues, like he knows better.

“I was born there, my mamgu lives there, we visit on my birthday and holidays.” He admits, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Your what?” There’s a laugh in his voice, Simon rolls his eyes.

“My nan.” He says, instead of trying to tell Nathan that not everyone uses the words nan or gran for their grandmother.

“Do you speak Welsh then?” Nathan questions curiously, Simon slides his shirt off and then sets to neatly folding it.

“I lived in Cardiff until I was six with my very Welsh grandparents, so yes.” He tells the other, putting his shirt in the bottom of his locker and starting to unbutton his jeans and kick off his boots.

“Say something Welsh, then.” Nathan prods eagerly.

Simon takes a moment to think, because pressure sort of makes him draw a blank. He busies himself with folding his jeans and pulling his jumpsuit on. When he manages to think of something, he’s zipping up his outfit and then smoothing his hands down the rough fabric. He turns to Nathan with a small smile, who’s looking at him expectantly.

“Dwi'n meddwl eich bod chi'n twat.” He says with a small smile, watching Nathan’s eyes narrow.

“See, no, that’s cheatin’ because you just said a buncha gibberish and then called me a twat!” He points at Simon, who exhales in amusement and shakes his head.

“No, I said I think you’re a twat.” He corrects, turning around and shutting his locker. “There isn’t a word for twat in Welsh, and I don’t know many curse words.” He confesses.

“Well that’s a shit language,” Nathan dismisses rather rudely, standing up and stepping up behind Simon as the smaller starts to tie his shoes. “Hey, so…”

He stands up straight, realizing that Nathan has crept up behind him quite closely. When he turns around, Nathan is smiling impishly at him with his hands behind his back. He doesn’t think Nathan could ever smile without a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes. Simon eyes him warily, unsure about the new attention. Part of him is nervous that this might be a prank, or maybe even something to humiliate him.

“What?”

“I found these big cinderblocks this morning out back,” He explains with a hitch of his thumb behind him for effect. “And I figured, you know, we could weigh the body down and dump it in the lake.” He lowers his voice a bit, for once, surprisingly enough.

“Oh,” That’s actually not a bad idea. Simon thinks about this for a moment, looking up at Nathan as he bounces up and down restlessly on the balls of his feet. His endless energy has ceased to surprise Simon, it poured from him like a fountain on most days. The way he’s bouncing reminds him of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, the orange jumpsuit doesn’t help.

“What’s that?” Nathan stops bouncing, frowning at Simon’s face. “Are you smiling? What are you smiling for?” He demands, Simon ducks his head with a quiet chuckle.

“Nothing.” He sidesteps Nathan and starts heading out of the locker room.

“No, you tell me what you’re laughing at!” The other squawks as he hurries behind Simon, he actually leaps into Simon and almost knocks him over in his hurry to squeeze out the door in front of him. Then he’s spinning away and leaping over to the foosball table.

_The wonderful thing about Tiggers, is Tiggers are wonderful things._

Nathan really is a lot like that animated character, if a cartoon for children could be a complete twat, that is. It sort of makes Simon’s feelings towards him soften in a way, less frustration at his teasing and more fondness somehow. Nathan plays him in foosball and beats him almost every time, because the one time Simon did win, Nathan was extremely pouty about it. He’s not going to be the reason that face looks so sour, he’d rather see him grinning like a Cheshire cat than scowling for the rest of the day.

With his attitude, you wouldn’t guess that the day before he had a near death experience. Nathan always seemed so far away from death, like it could never touch him. Simon wished he had only a quarter of the confidence and carelessness that Nathan does. He’s always been neurotic to an extent, overly anxious, paranoid, overthinking every little detail. He wishes he had the ability to turn it off and put a bra on over his jumpsuit like him and-

He watches Nathan dance around wearing the bra and decides that maybe being like him isn’t the greatest idea. He enjoys his presence though, today, with the way he’s started to glance over at Simon and call out to him for attention. It’s not anything special, he does it with the others, but he thinks that’s why it is special. Nathan had insulted him from day one, and while the jibes and comments are there, they suddenly seem a little less severe. And sometimes when Simon hides a laugh behind his hand, Nathan stands there grinning at him like he’s somehow accomplished something.

It feels like a new beginning, really, despite it all.


	3. A Confession and A Kiss

Once they’re allowed to go home for the day, Simon changes into his regular clothes slowly and lingers in the locker room until the others are gone. He’s just checking his hair in a nearby mirror when he hears the door to the locker room open, he turns his head and watches Nathan peek around one of the walls of lockers. Simon quickly reaches down and adjusts his shirt collar before walking over to him.

“Has everyone left?” He asks.

“Yeah, Kelly was worried about you and was wondering where you were.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her you were either having explosive diarrhea or wanking because I heard moaning from the men’s bathroom.” Nathan says with a jerk of his head and a flash of a smile.

“That’s disgusting.” He scowls, shaking his head in irritation as he steps by Nathan.

“What else was I gonna say?!” Nathan follows behind him as he leaves the locker rooms and heads up to the storage room with the freezer in it. “Oh, Barry’s stayin’ with me so we can take another dead probation worker to the lake to get rid of the evidence of the murder?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

It takes quite a while for them to get out onto the water, the silence filled by Nathan’s annoying commentary and the both of them struggling to not make a mess of everything. They end up getting Sally’s body in a wheelbarrow used for landscaping around the community center and cover it with a tarp. Nathan brings the cinderblocks he mentioned before, and they locate a boat after preparing the body. By the time they get outside, it’s pitch black outside and the city is winding down significantly in its noise.

It takes a few minutes to get the body onto the boat, the garbage bag wrapped corpse already tied to a bunch of concrete. It’s a struggle, between two guys of their size and stature. Simon sort of wishes that they had told the others, but Nathan had been right, the less people that know, that better. When they start to row out onto the lake, Simon ends up actually having to hit Nathan with an oar to get him to pick his own paddles up and help him.

“Why does everyone always hit me?!” Nathan demands in a huff as he starts to row clumsily.

“Because you don’t listen to us.” Simon replies into the dark, he can’t see Nathan’s face, but he can see his silhouette on the other end of the boat.

“I never listened to my mum either, she never hit me.” Nathan replies petulantly, then makes a noise. “Well, that one time she did, when I insulted her pervert werewolf b-” He pauses, grumbling under his breath.

“Boyfriend?” Simon offers.

“Don’t say that!” Nathan objects with a whine. “Jezza is far more girlfriend than boyfriend with the way he cries at everything. I was only jokin’, he’s just a pussy.”

“Have you ever taken other people’s feelings into account?” Simon asks, a bit sarcastic but also slightly curious to the truth.

“Why should I?”

“Because i-it’s nice?” He’s a bit flabbergasted at the statement honestly.

“Nobody’s ever nice to me, why should I be nice to them?” Nathan snorts, he’s stopped rowing again, so Simon stops to let his arms have a bit of a rest.

The lake is quiet, the ducks have gone to roost, and the nearby traffic has quieted down. Simon can hear Nathan shifting around restlessly in his side of the boat, it rocks the boat slightly, creating a gentle lapping noise from the water. Simon’s own breathing seems rather loud in his own ears, and he wonders if Nathan can hear it.

“I’m nice.” He objects quietly.

“No, you’re Barry.” Nathan replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re just desperate for the affection your mum never gave you as a child.”

That would sting if it were true, but to be completely honest his mum was all right when he was young. His dad tended to be a bit distant, always wanted a masculine son who liked rugby and football. He never could understand how Simon ended up so quiet and reserved, not to mention overly anxious. He often blamed his mum, for coddling him too much, but Simon’s just always been like this. He only recently got a diagnosis of Asperger’s, which his dad scoffed at. Doesn’t really matter to Simon one way or another, he never gave much of a shit what his dad thought.

“I’m not,” He denies, then at Nathan’s scoff he can feel a bit of irritation lance through him. “Maybe you’re just projecting.”

“Fuck off, you pedophile.” Nathan snaps, and this insult has a bit of heat to it. “Just shut up and dump this body before I get arrested for something you did.” He grunts, leaning forward to grab at the body.

“Prick.”

They heave the body over the edge, the boat jarring violently after it disappears over the edge. Simon latches onto the sides of the boat with a nervous inhale, as Nathan leans over dangerously to watch the body slip below the surface quickly. His weight has the boat shifted sideways, which makes Simon rather uneasy.

“You know, if you hate me so much then why did you save my life?” Nathan slumps back onto his seat with a noisy thud, the boat sways back and forth.

“I-I don’t hate you, I never said that!” Simon insists.

“It’s all right if you do, I’m used to it.” Nathan says dismissively, although there’s something strangely vulnerable to his tone.

“I don’t hate you.” He repeats firmly, shaking his head as he picks the oars up again. “I only wanted to be friends with you.”

“We are friends,” Nathan grabs his own paddles, starting to weakly row along with him. “You’re one of my best mates.”

“M-Me?” Simon stops rowing, but Nathan continues on. “But… But you’re always making fun of me, calling me names!”

“So?”

“So!” Simon’s mouth hangs open, stunned at the revelation that Nathan somehow found no absurdity in this. “I-I don’t like being insulted, like most people.”

“How was I supposed to know that?!” Nathan demands shrilly.

“Because I’m a person!” Simon snaps, and Nathan’s oars still in the water. “People hate you because all you do is treat them badly.”

“Yeah…” Nathan actually sounds a bit guilty then.

“Yeah?” Simon echoes.

“People have always called me names,” Nathan mutters, fiddling with one of his oars. “Guess I just figured I should beat’em to it, you know?”

“People bullied me too, you don’t see me calling you a pervert.” Simon argues.

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ if I hurt your pathetic little feelings, Barry.” Nathan retorts sarcastically. “It’s not like I actually thought you were a pervert,”

“Then why call me one?”

“Because you got mad about it!” Nathan raises his voice a little, it echoes across the water.

“Why would that make you want to do it again?!” Simon demands.

“Cos if you’re mad, you’re paying attention to me!” Nathan snaps, waving his arm above his head in the dim light. “And I like being looked at.”

“You… You want us to look at you?” Simon asks, a bit confused. He never wanted people looking at him, sure he wanted people to acknowledge him but being stared at or yelled at was low on his list of priorities.

“Doesn’t feel right if people aren’t looking at me, you know?” Nathan admits, a bit hesitantly. “Makes me feel invisible, I’m sure you can relate.”

And damn, that actually kind of makes sense. Simon had the same fear as a child, following kids around and desperately seeking out friends and being denied almost every time. It felt lonely not having friends, not having anyone to talk to. If Simon was one of Nathan’s best mates then maybe he didn’t have many friends either, most definitely not any good ones. He probably chased them all off with his insults and poorly timed jokes.

“You don’t… have to call me a virgin for me to pay attention to you, Nathan.” He sighs.

“I know,” Nathan mumbles, they both start to row again. “That’s why we’re mates.”

They continue on in silence after that, uncomfortable and tense silence. When they reach the shore, Nathan gets out first and scrambles to tug the boat out of the water, allowing Simon to walk through the boat and out so he doesn’t get wet. He stares out at the water with a small frown, squinting as if he could see a black trash bag floating in murky water in the middle of the night. Hopefully, it wouldn’t resurface, Simon tied the knots fairly tight.

“Thanks,” He says, once the boat is put away and they’re back at the front of the community center.

“Don’t be tellin’ anyone that shit I told you, all right?” Nathan’s voice is casual, but his posture is anxious, like he’s worried he’s said too much.

“We’re friends,” Simon holds out a hand to him, Nathan takes it after a second. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

In the dim light, Nathan looks as if he doesn’t believe Simon. “Right, yeah.” He tugs his hand back and steps away. “Night, Barry.”

“Night.” He watches Nathan walk inside, then turns away.

-

Simon sees her a few days later, while the group that she came in with started to set up easels and canvases. He doesn’t really recognize anyone else except for her, but she’s enough to scare him. Lucy is a part of his life that he had tried so hard to forget, tried to erase because it would only cast him further out of normality. He tries not to make eye contact, tries to make sure she doesn’t see him.

“What are you doing?” Simon winces and looks over at Nathan, who he had been trying to hide behind.

“N-Nothing…” He smooths his hair down anxiously, peering around the taller boy to looks at where Lucy is standing at her easel. She’s smiling gently at him, hopeful, Simon wants to crawl into a hole.

“Nah you’ve got that look on your face.” Nathan wags a finger at him, then follows his gaze.

“What look?” He asks distractedly.

“That panicked virgin look.” Nathan must spot Lucy, because he waves at her and she waves back. “Oh my god, are you trying to shag a crazy?” He turns back to Simon to hiss at him.

“No!” He snaps.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Alisha chuckles as she walks up with Curtis and Kelly in tow.

“That joke’s old, love, it doesn’t embarrass anyone but yourself.” Nathan replies with a bit of a snooty tone.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Curtis makes a face at Simon as the smaller young man ducks behind him and Alisha.

“Mental chick over there is making googly eyes at him,” Nathan informs them with a small jerk of his thumb inconspicuously over his shoulder.

“Which one?” Kelly grimaces, Nathan turns around and obviously points the girl out. Simon covers his hands with his face and sinks to the floor behind the chair nearby.

“Do you wanna shag her?” Alisha asks, scandalized.

“No!” He insists, humiliated. “I just want her to go away.”

“All right, well I’ll tell her to fuck off if she comes over here.” Kelly offers.

Simon is surprised when a hand drops onto his head casually, ruffling his hair playfully.

“Come on!”

He looks up and finds Nathan grinning down at him, but there’s an edge of something else in his eyes. Just as quick as he sees it, it slips away, and he’s left wondering why it makes his face hotter than it was before. Nathan hauls him to his feet and smacks him in the chest with a paintbrush.

“Don’t worry, Barry, we’ll protect your virginity.” He snorts, then moves over to the tarps and the mural wall.

Simon shuffles over next to him and spends the next hour and a half between Kelly and Nathan. Lucy never comes over, but he catches her staring at him a few times. Each time, Kelly or Nathan get him to look away and pay attention to what they’re doing or at least to a new conversation. He appreciates the gesture, even though he feels guilty for not telling them the truth.

At lunch, they retreat outside to get away from the commotion.

Nathan flails around at the table Simon had sat at with him, fidgeting and talking and making all the noise he can. He’s so bright and loud, the memories of the hesitant and quiet confession on the boat seem like a fever dream at this point. Simon lets the young man have his chips, eating his sandwich and allowing him to endlessly chatter about whatever springs to his mind, even more restless than his body somehow.

When Lucy walks up, Simon chokes a bit on his sandwich. Nathan hits him hard on the back, it stings even through his jumpsuit and doesn’t do anything but make him glare at the man sitting beside him. He takes a sip of his drink and sets the piece of sandwich down in its box, wiping his hands as Lucy stops in front of the table.

“Hey,” She breathes, dark eyes hopeful.

“U-Uhm, hey.” He raises a hand, keeping it tight to his body in an awkward wave.

“Simon, my love, your eyes sparkle like the sea.” The words drift from Nathan’s mouth in a sigh, and somehow, they feel like a punch in the face.

“Wh-What?” His lip curls up in confusion, he turns his head to look at the other.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just busy adoring you, my handsome man.” He’s starting to think that Nathan has really lost it, but when his eyes flicker to Lucy, he realizes she looks hurt.

His gaze darts back to Nathan, whose eyes twinkle with mischief and deceit.

“O-Oh,” He clears his throat, reaches up to flatten his hair down. “You look… handsome too.” He allows stiltedly.

Nathan pushes further into his space, leaning his head on Simon’s shoulder, arms around his waist, and making him feel like his body is both boiling and being turned to ice at the same time. He looks up to watch Lucy rushing back inside the building, Nathan pulls away and has him feeling dizzy and shaken.

“There you go, fixed it.” Nathan flashes him a devilish grin and takes a piece of his sandwich as his payment.

He doesn’t really have the words to reply, just sits awkwardly for a moment or two. He pushes over the rest of his sandwich to Nathan, who eagerly chows down on it without hesitation. Simon rubs at where Nathan’s curls had tickled his neck and feels a horrifyingly familiar flutter in his stomach. He picks up his drink and takes a sip, his mouth suddenly dry.

“That Welsh complexion really is a fucker when you’re blushing.” Nathan says through a mouthful of sandwich, poking a finger at his face. Simon tucks his chin to his chest and squeezes his hands in the fabric of his jumpsuit.

When he doesn’t reply, Nathan sighs, as if put upon, and then he’s scooting back into Simon’s space again. He presses a crumb-covered kiss to his cheek, there’s a cool wetness of saliva to accompany it. Simon flinches against it, and promptly stands up, steps away from the bench. He doesn’t move any further, just stands there, tight with anxiety and mixed feelings. He couldn’t take Nathan playing with his emotions, he never understood signals and messages that were without proper verbal explanations.

“Barry,” Nathan sounds almost disapproving. “You look like a wanker, come sit down.”

“You kissed me.” He insists, eyes searching the ground.

Nathan snorts. “It wasn’t even on the mouth this time, stop bein’ weird.”

But it’s different this time, Simon doesn’t know why, but it is. Maybe Nathan is messing with his head, maybe he’s just playing around. It doesn’t matter the intention, what matters is the consequences of it.

“She was already inside; she went inside, and you kissed me anyway.” He twists the fabric in his hands anxiously, heart beating funny in his chest and his face uncomfortably hot. He looks up, Nathan’s got a piece of sandwich in his hand and is watching him, unaffected.

“So?”

“Lucy was-was gone, why… why did you do that?”

“Lucy?” Nathan looks intrigued now, a smirk finding his face. “How the hell do you know her name?”

“We were in hospital together,” He snaps, fed up with the game. He wants to wipe that smirk off Nathan’s face, wants to make him take this seriously. "When I tried to burn that guy's house down they sent me to a psychiatric unit for assessment." 

“Like…?” He spins a finger up near his temple, Simon has the urge to push him to the ground and strangle him.

Instead, he turns around and stomps off, feeling flustered and a bit angry.

Nathan doesn’t follow him, but he does shout after him, calling him a moody twat.


	4. Apologies, and the Grave

Kelly catches Simon in the hall as he’s going to change the next morning, having wandered around the perimeter of the community centre just to avoid Nathan in the locker room. Nathan hadn’t spoken to him for the rest of the day yesterday, but he kept looking at Nathan like he was switching between feeling guilty and wanting to punch Simon in the face.

He thought everyone had left the area by now, apparently not.

“Simon, I been lookin’ for ya.” She says before he can rush past her into the locker room. “I dunno what happened between you and Nathan, but I’m sure it was his fault, yeah?”

“It was nothing.” He murmurs.

“He’s a twat, and if you need me to smack some sense into him, I can.” She offers with a sincere expression, he glances away uncomfortably and tries his best not to think about what happened. It pops into his head anyway.

_I can’t believe he kissed me._

“Nathan kissed you?!” She shouts, it echoes down the hall and Simon grimaces.

“O-On the cheek, he was… he was messing around. Trying to get that girl to leave me alone.” He admits, though it’s not the whole truth.

Kelly stares at him, and her expression softens from shock to something akin to pity. She can probably see it in his face, in his eyes, he’s never been good at hiding hurt. He hates the sight of the expression on her face, but he’s a bit accustomed to it at this point. Probably better than disgust or annoyance, but not by much.

“Do you want me to hit him for ya?” She asks.

“No.”

“Well, check your locker, he left something in there for ya earlier.” She tells him, jerking a thumb towards the door to the locker room.

Nerves curl uncomfortably in his stomach. “What is it?”

“It’s not bad, it’s actually kinda sweet. I think he felt bad for hurting your feelings.” She snorts, shaking her head. “He might be a dickhead, but he does like ya.”

“Oh,” He glances to the locker room door, still hesitant to go inside.

Kelly just briefly squeezes his arm. “See ya in there.”

“All right.” He watches her walk away, and when she’s almost to the double doors on the other end of the hall, he slips into the changing room.

He glances around, worried that Nathan might be hiding somewhere ready to jump out at him. He unlocks his locker with unsteady hands, and immediately spots something amiss in the top shelf. There’s a candy bar and a piece of paper, he sets the candy bar aside and unfolds the paper carefully. It’s a crudely drawn picture of a naked woman, and at the bottom is a message written in a messy, barely legible scrawl.

_Nearly got my arm stuck in the vending machine so you’d better like it. -Nathan_

He reaches back up and takes the candy bar, lips quirking up slightly at the edges. He’d only eaten candy from the vending machines a few times here, and yet somehow Nathan got his favorite. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe he’s a little more observant than anyone gave him credit for. Likely, he just asked Kelly, she probably knew.

Simon folds the note up, placing it back on the top shelf with the candy bar. He feels a lot better as he gets dressed, knowing that Nathan actually had the emotional capacity to feel sorry. Kelly’s right, he might be a twat, but he does care in his own deranged way.

“Simon,” He startles, spinning around with wide eyes to find Lucy standing before him, looking at him expectantly.

“Lucy,” He breathes, feeling unnerved by the mere sight of her. The ward they had been kept in had been heavily guarded and monitored, so unless they’re visiting again today… “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“I kept waiting for you to visit after you left, but you never did.”

Simon searches for the best excuse. “Th-They said it was best to cut off all contact.”

“I knew you wanted to see me,” She lunges forward, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He replies stiffly.

“You should meet me tonight, here.” She insists as she pulls away, Simon scrambles for some sort of excuse.

“I’m meeting with Nathan.” He says weakly.

Her expression darkens. “Nathan?”

“My… My boyfriend.”

“Oh. _Him_.” Her voice is clipped, expression tight.

The sound of voices outside in the hall gives him the perfect opportunity.

“I have to go; I’ll see you around.” He turns and hurries out, finding Curtis and Alisha coming down the hall.

“Where have you been?” Curtis makes a face at the sight of him, Simon smooths his hair down.

“Changing, sorry.” He mutters, falling into step behind them.

When they get into the main foyer, their usual buckets and scrub brushes are waiting for them. Nathan is receiving a smack to his arm for something by Kelly, the young man crowing his exaggerated pain and glaring at her. Simon suppresses a smile at the sight, ducking his head as they all fall into line.

He only dares to look over once they’ve been dismissed, watching as Nathan quickly turns his head to look away from him. Simon smirks as he follows behind the rest of them outside, noting that Nathan’s pace has slowed slightly to match with his own. They don’t say anything to each other as they make the walk to the other side of the building where new graffiti has popped up.

Nathan’s bucket knocks into Simon’s right as they’re getting close, so Simon stops. Nathan staggers before turning to look back at him, smiling awkwardly.

“So…” Nathan sighs, feigning casualty. “Seen any good snuff films lately?”

“Nathan,” He says, earning a slightly hopeful expression from the other. “Thank you.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Barry.” Nathan waves him off, but he looks absolutely chipper as he spins around and takes off after the others with his scrub brush clattering loudly in his bucket.

Simon shakes his head and follows.

-

“Where’s Nathan?” Kelly asks as they’re retreating to dress out.

“He said he was going to the bathroom,” Simon offers.

He had been acting a bit weird, though. He’d gone off to the bathroom earlier after they’d made up, and when he’d come back, he’d just been strange. He’d been a bit meaner than he had been, a little more to the point with his insults. A lot of them aimed at Simon. He was feeling a bit put out, figured they were well behind this, but apparently not. Maybe he was just high.

Curtis lets out a snort. “He’s probably getting high.” Having practically read Simon’s mind.

“He’d better share.” Alisha comments as they step into the changing room.

The girls head to the bathroom, Curtis and Simon stop in front of the lockers to get changed. Simon’s got his jeans on and is grabbing for his shirt when Alisha and Kelly let out duel screams. Curtis is just a few steps ahead of Simon as they rush into the bathroom. Curtis nearly runs into Alisha as she tries to race out, her eyes filled with tears.

“He’s in the stall!” She clutches at Curtis’s shirt; he carefully maneuvers her to the side by her fabric covered shoulders as Simon pushes past them.

Kelly is leaned back against the sink, mascara starting to run from tears dripping from her eyes messily. He turns his head to follow her gaze, spotting that the disabled stall’s door is ajar. He bites his lip, swallowing against a squeezing feeling in his throat as he approaches. Simon pushes the door open, watching in horror as it reveals a familiar pair of sneakers, skinny legs, orange jumpsuit.

The toilet is bloody, and the side of Nathan’s face is the same. There’s blood everywhere on his jumpsuit, on his hands. The Irishman’s head is turned away, and he’s terrifyingly still. There’s so much blood, Simon knows better to think that he might be alive, but he steps into the stall anyway. His heart is pounding, mouth dry as he reaches out to touch the young man’s shoulder.

“Nathan?”

He leans forward, realizing that the eye that isn’t swollen shut is gazing emptily into nothing. He feels his stomach churn with nausea, with too many emotions than he can identify. Tears pool in his eyes against his will, and he squeezes Nathan’s shoulder gently as he hears Curtis curse over his shoulder.

“Turn back time, bring him back!” Kelly insists.

“I-I don’t know how, I can’t!” He replies weakly.

“Fuck.” Alisha says quietly, tears in her own voice.

“Who could have done this?” Kelly sniffs.

“Maybe we should check to make sure the probation worker hasn’t come back or something.” Curtis says quietly.

“That girl,” Alisha says suddenly, and Simon turns his head to look at her. She’s standing over near the sinks, staring down at them. “That crazy chick, she was here earlier, I saw her.” She turns around.

“Lucy?” Simon asks, before he can think twice.

“You know her name?” Curtis questions with a twist of his mouth.

“We were in hospital together,” He admits quietly, getting to his feet. “After I tried to burn that house down, they sent me to a psych ward for evaluation.”

“Could she have killed Nathan?” Kelly demands, grief giving away to anger.

“I-I don’t…” He shakes his head, glancing back at the body in the stall. Then, a realization hits him like a punch to the stomach. “I told her he was my boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Alisha scoffs.

“He flirted with me, t-to scare her off the other day. This morning, she tried to talk to me, told me to meet her tonight… I told her I was meeting Nathan, my-my boyfriend.” He reaches up and pushes his hair back, the pit in his stomach growing into a gaping maw. “This is all my fault.”

“You couldn’t have known, Simon.” Kelly reaches out, squeezing his shoulder.

“Should we call someone?” Curtis asks.

“Well, I doubt we’ll get blamed for this one.” Alisha offers.

“Does this blood look dry to you?” Kelly asks suddenly.

Simon glances back into the stall, observes for a moment. It does look a bit dry; he steps into the stall again and carefully reaches out to touch Nathan’s neck where it isn’t bloody. His skin is cold, far too cold to have just happened.

“He’s cold.” He turns back with a frown.

“This looks like it happened a while ago.” Kelly insists.

“Nah, we just saw him like ten minutes ago.”

“Barry!” The voice makes them all freeze up. “Where did you wankers go?”

The group turns their heads as someone who looks just like Nathan appears in the bathroom doorway. “Nathan” stops short at the sight before him, eyes widening as he sets eyes on the open stall door.

“Holy shit.” Curtis hisses.

Not-Nathan takes off out of the room, and then they’re all giving chase through the building. Whoever it is disappears fast, and then they’re all standing in the hallway spinning in circles wondering where he went.

“So Nathan’s been dead for hours, and we’ve been hanging out with someone who looks exactly like him?” Curtis runs a hand through his hair, slightly out of breath as he leans against a nearby wall.

“I knew he was being weird!” Kelly snaps.

“We mentioned the probation worker.” Alisha says quietly, and then they’re all silent. So whoever it is knows that they’ve killed their probation worker.

“It has to be Lucy,” Simon says, shaking his head as the others look to him. “She must have the ability to look like someone else, like a shapeshifter.”

“Fuck, do you think she can do anyone?” Curtis asks. They’re all looking to each other warily now.

“Maybe we can come up with a code word or something, so we know it’s us.” Alisha offers.

“But we’d have to change the code if we ended up accidentally saying it in front of them.”

“I can read everyone’s minds.” Kelly says.

“But you didn’t notice it wasn’t Nathan earlier!” Curtis objects angrily.

“Neither did any of you!” She shouts back at him.

“Wait!” Simon calls over them. “If you see anyone and you aren’t sure if they’re the real person, just ask them a question only they can answer.”

“Like what?” Kelly murmurs.

“What’s Nathan’s mum’s boyfriend’s name?” Simon asks.

“Jeremy.” She makes a bit of a face.

“All right, fine.” Curtis allows, nodding his head. “Let’s split up, if you see her, yell.”

They all split off, and Simon finds himself hoping that he runs into Lucy first.

-

It takes a few hours of racing around, chasing after different versions of themselves and even a mouse briefly. But he finds her, and she’s in her true form now.

“We were meant to be together, Simon! Now we can be!” Lucy tries to convince him where they stand in the hallway, him backing her into a corner.

“You killed Nathan.” He says, voice low and shaking.

“He didn’t love you like I do.” She pleads. “He was just some twat!”

He lunges for her, and this time, the collision of a head to a door isn’t an accident. He hits her against the hinge of the metal doors, one hand gripping her shoulder and the other grasping her throat. She scrambles at his arms, his face, clawing at him weakly. She draws blood from his jaw with a particularly hard scratch. In the back of his head, he wonders how hard Nathan struggled, how she must be feeling similarly to how he felt.

And sickeningly, he only feels pleasure to be inflicting that feeling onto her.

Simon yanks her forward and then hits her head again, and Lucy goes slack. He allows her to slowly slide to the floor, breathing heavily as he stares down at her. There’s only a mild fear in the back of his head, at the fact that he’s killed a second person, and this one on purpose. He just stares at her, trying to summon guilt, and feeling none.

All he sees is Nathan’s body on the floor of the stall. All he can think of is how he must have been scared, he might have even called for help. Lucy showed him no mercy, so Simon had shown her none.

“Simon?” Alisha’s voice has him turning his head, watching her approach warily. “Is she dead?”

He nods his head quietly, then reaches up and wipes at his face when he feels wetness on his cheek. It’s not blood but tears, he scrubs at his face with his sleeve.

“Did you get her?” He ignores Curtis, walking away and heading back to the changing rooms.

They need to clean up and bury Nathan; he deserves that much.

-

They wait until night has completely fallen, until everything is dark, and the streets nearby are empty. Alisha and Curtis dump Lucy’s body in the lake, while Kelly and Simon take Nathan down to the flyover. Simon chooses a spot near a tree, so they can use it as a marker. They’re much more careful with Nathan’s body than they had been with any of the others.

Simon can hear Kelly still sniffling as he adjusts Nathan properly in the grave.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” She wipes under her eye with the side of her hand, smearing more mascara.

He can’t summon the words to reply, so he just stares down at the mess that used to be his friend. They stay like that for a few minutes, but then they realize they can’t mess around for too much longer. They start to push the dirt back into place, Simon sinks down onto his knees in front of the grave as they finish up. In a few minutes, Alisha and Curtis arrive.

They’re silent for a bit, just taking in the quiet.

“Should someone say something?” Curtis asks.

“Like what?” Alisha whispers.

“He was a twat, but in that funny way, you know?” Kelly says. “Loveable.”

“He was my friend.” Simon says hoarsely, feeling more tears welling up in his eyes. “You were our friend. I’m sorry, Nathan.”

They all echo his apology, and then Simon stands up.

“Anyone fancy a drink?” Kelly questions morosely.

“I could do with getting pissed right about now.” Curtis mutters.

Alisha nods. “Me too.”

“Simon?” Kelly asks, Simon turns away and starts walking.

“I’m going home.”

Simon does end up at home that night, ignoring his sister asking him what’s wrong when he passes her in the hallway. He just locks his door behind him, strips down into his pants and climbs into bed. He feels a plethora of things, an angry sadness that throbs in his chest beneath a blanket of numbness. He shuts his eyes and all he can see is Nathan’s smile that morning, the image of him placing that candy bar and note in Simon’s locker.

He plays every single moment with Lucy back in his head, identifying each and every turn that led them to this moment. He soaks his pillow with tears and wishes that he could take it all back. Simon pulls out his phone and opens a video from that morning, of Nathan splashing water on Curtis and screaming as he got chased around the courtyard.

“ _Incoming!_ ” He races right up to the camera, flashing the young man behind the phone a cheeky grin. “ _I gotta piss like a racehorse. Back in a mo’!_ ” He ducks behind the camera, his footsteps skipping off.

The camera cuts off, Simon shuts his eyes and more tears spill onto his cheeks.

How could he have been so stupid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Sorry guys, but I promise it won't last! )


	5. The Resurrection

Simon wakes up the next morning to the sound of his phone ringing, and for a moment he thinks it’s his alarm. He wipes the crust from his eyes, the tears from the night before having sealed them shut partially and made them feel raw. When he finally manages to pull his phone to his face, it’s stopped ringing.

He has two missed calls, and a voicemail. He clicks the voicemail without thinking, pulling it up to his ear and listening as it starts to play.

“ _So I have no idea what the absolute fuck is happening right now, but I just woke up buried in like four_ _feet of dirt._ ”

The voice chills him to the bone, Nathan sounds out of breath and a bit shaky.

“ _Did you fuckers bury me under the flyover? That’s disrespectful, man. By the way, I think I’m immortal._ ”

Simon ends the voicemail and scrambles for Nathan’s contact, dialing his number as he throws himself out of bed. He needs to get dressed and head down to the community centre, nobody is supposed to be down there today except maybe a worker or two. He’s buckling his belt and tucking in his shirt with his phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear when the line picks up.

“ _Barry?_ ”

“Nathan,” He stops what he’s doing, abandoning his belt to grab the phone properly and stand up straight. “Are you all right? Where are you?”

“ _I’m sitting in a shallow grave covered in dirt and blood. No flowers_?”

“I’ll be right there, stay where you are.” He tries to keep his voice steady, but he doesn’t think he’s succeeding.

Nathan makes a startled noise. “ _W-Wait, wait,_ ”

“What?”

“ _I think that mental chick bashed my brains in. My head is killin’ me._ ”

“Stay out of sight, don’t move.”

“ _Which is it, Barry?!_ ”

“Don’t move!” He insists and hangs up.

Immediately, he tucks his phone into his pocket and scrambles to his dresser again. He looks through his clothes, searching for something that’ll fit Nathan. He finds a pair of joggers that he’s used to sleeping in, and a long-sleeve t-shirt. Then, he scrambles to his closet to look for shoes. He finds a pair of flip-flops in the back of his closet from a beach visit a year or two ago with his family. He shoves them all into his bag, and then finishes getting dressed as quick as he can.

When Simon opens his door, he pauses in the hallway for a moment, then ducks into the bathroom. He gargles some mouthwash and washes his face, then combs his hair as quickly as possible. He looks a right mess regardless. His eyes are still a little puffy from the night before and his hair has taken a greasy shine to it.

He’s down the stairs and into the kitchen seconds later, finding a trash bag and stuffing that into his bag as well. He’s out the door without another thought, hurrying down the road. His mind is racing frantically, a giddy sort of relief swirling in his chest with the guilt of having caused this whole mess in the first place. He worries that Nathan will blame him, he’d likely deserve it, after all. It doesn’t matter, because Nathan is alive, not another secret to be buried under the flyover or dropped into the lake.

It’s a good thing they didn’t throw him in the lake…

It starts to rain a few minutes before Simon reaches the flyover, and he dutifully pulls out the umbrella he carries with him before picking up the pace. Eventually, he reaches his destination, and walks along the underneath towards where they had dug Nathan’s grave. He closes his umbrella as he nears, not needing it under the cover of the concrete above him. For a moment, he’s afraid that it was all a hallucination, that he’ll turn the corner and the grave will still be whole. Nathan a rotting corpse beneath the dirt.

Instead, the dirt has been disheveled slightly and Nathan is sitting under a nearby tree curled into a ball. His uniform is filthy, as is he, blood and dirt everywhere. His hair is matted down against his head with dirt, and the side of his face is still swollen from where he’d had his head bashed in. His right eye is barely open, the other widens at the sight of him and he uncurls carefully.

“It’s about time,” Nathan turns slightly to grab onto the tree behind him, pulling himself to his feet with a wince. “It’s freezing out here, my balls are a good minute away from being actually blue.”

“Are you all right?” He steps closer, reaching his hand out automatically towards Nathan’s face. He stops short when Nathan flinches, lowering his hand back down.

“I just had to dig out of my own grave after getting my head bashed in against a toilet seat, Barry. How the fuck do you think I am?” He snaps.

“I’m sorry,” He says it automatically, glancing away guiltily.

Nathan sighs and reaches up to push his damp, dirty hair out of his face. “We need to find that freak.”

“We did.” Simon says quietly, Nathan blinks at him with his good eye. “I killed her.”

“Oh good,” Nathan lets out a short bark of sarcastic laughter, gesturing around them. “She buried around here too?”

“We dumped her in the lake.”

“Why not throw me in there too? It’d save you the trip.” Nathan grumbles at him, obviously put out at the thought of being buried under the flyover.

“I brought you clothes to change into, so nobody sees…” He lets his voice trail off as his gaze slips down over the muddy bloody jumpsuit Nathan is adorning.

He hands Nathan the clothes and turns away respectfully as he strips out of his jumpsuit and puts the clothes on. After a couple minutes of struggling, Nathan at one point landing a hand on Simon’s shoulder for balance, he finishes getting dressed. When Simon turns back around, he realizes that the clothes really don’t fit Nathan that well. The shirt is a bit short at the wrists, and it’s baggy in the shoulders, revealing his collar bones. The joggers are a proper length, but the drawstring is pulled tight to keep them from falling off his waist.

Nathan wraps his arms around himself, shivering a bit. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Simon shrugs his bag off his shoulder, then pushes his denim jacket off his shoulders. He turns it around, holding it out towards Nathan. “Put this on.”

“Your geeky little jacket?” Nathan murmurs, looking at it with a surprisingly tender expression.

“You’re shivering.” Simon offers as reasoning. He steps closer and Nathan turns around so he can slip it on him.

“Come on,” He pulls out the trash bag, gesturing to the clothes on the ground. Nathan picks them up, along with his trainers, and dumps them in.

They start walking back, though Nathan is moving at a much slower pace than usual. He seems exhausted, not even bothering to put up a strong front when the rain starts to pick up more than a drizzle. He ducks under Simon’s umbrella and keeps close; Simon has to switch out the hand holding the umbrella so he can pull Nathan into him when he stumbles a bit.

“How’d you kill her?” Nathan mumbles as the community centre gets closer.

“I hit her head against a door until she died.” He confesses quietly, trying not to look at Nathan, wary of his possible disgust.

“Shit, man. That’s rough.”

“She killed you.” He says quietly.

“So you did it for me?” Nathan turns his head, they’re so close that he has to crane his neck back a bit, so their faces don’t collide. There’s a bit of an upturn of his lips, almost teasing, but his good eye betrays a hopefulness.

“That drawing of the naked woman was good.” Simon replies, as if that’s the reason, and Nathan laughs quietly.

“Yeah, it was.” He agrees quietly.

-

Nathan takes a shower while Simon sits in the locker room on a bench. He stares at his phone for the first minute, then spends the next couple writing and erasing messages to their friends. Had Nathan told anyone he was back? Surely, if he’d told Kelly, she would be storming into the community centre looking for him. They deserve to know, of course, but Simon just doesn’t know what to tell them and when.

Nathan seemed so tired, maybe they should wait a bit? But Kelly was likely feeling the effects of losing a friend like Simon had last night, she deserves that relief.

He startles a bit when he hears retching, standing up and pausing in hesitation before pushing himself to head into the bathrooms towards the noise. When he peeks his head into the bathroom, he spots Nathan immediately at the sink, hunched over it. He’s dressed in nothing except the joggers Simon had given him, and his hair is wet from the shower.

Nathan’s body jerks as he lets out a dry heave, an awful noise that sounds painful.

Simon stands just inside the bathroom, keeping his distance as he watches. He doesn’t know if Nathan would appreciate being coddled, he seems both the type to love and hate it but there’s no guarantee on one or the other. He waits for Nathan to finish, then waits with bated breath as he raises his head and spots Simon in the reflection of the mirror.

“I ate dirt,” He rasps, then leans into the sink to drink some water from the faucet. He spits it out shortly after, and levers himself upright.

“Should I tell the others you’re all right?”

“Fuck if I care, they’ll find out Monday, won’t they?” He mutters, then presses a palm to his forehead gingerly. “Feels like I got skull-fucked by a rhino.” He complains, turning away from the sink and showing off his bare chest. There are bruises on his torso as well, and he feels a flare of anger towards Lucy again.

“You could have a concussion.” He offers, stepping forward.

“I think by the end of it there, I had a brain hemorrhage. Concussion’s the least of my problems, Barry.”

But he stays still as Simon gets closer to look at his face. He reaches up hesitantly, using a careful thumb to pull open Nathan’s swollen eye. He hisses in pain but stays obediently still as Simon glances between his pupils. He’s not sure exactly what he’s looking for, but his eyes look normal, pupils not too big or too different from one another. That should be good enough, right?

“Is this just an attempt to get a good look at my ruggedly handsome face?” Nathan cracks a small smile, Simon lets go of him and drops his hands to his sides.

“You should put ice on that.” He points to the swollen side of Nathan’s face briefly.

The curly-haired young man lets out a snort. “What are you, a doctor?”

Simon ignores him, turning away to head out and find some ice. The freezer upstairs where he hid Sally’s body has some, but there’s a fridge in the employee lounge that might have some actual cubes rather than shavings he would have to chip out. He startles a bit when Nathan catches his shoulder, turning his head to look at the other in confusion.

“I’m just messing around.” He says with a weak smile. Simon realizes it must have looked like he was leaving because of Nathan’s remark, and it makes him feel a bit sad how quickly Nathan changed his tune.

“I’m going to find ice,” He says quietly, Nathan lets go of his shoulder like it’s burned him and nods his head. “Stay here in case you need to be sick again.”

“Whatever.” Nathan mumbles petulantly. But when Simon glances back as he’s reaching the doorway, Nathan doesn’t look like he plans on going anywhere.

There really isn’t anyone around at this time of the morning, not on a weekend. It’s strange seeing the place empty during the day, he feels like he’s going to turn a corner and run into one of the others at any moment. Instead, he makes his way through the centre and fetches a rag and some ice in a bowl and heads back.

When he enters the bathroom again, Nathan has put on a shirt and is sitting on the floor near the stalls. He looks a bit sad, strangely enough, knees bent and chin resting on one of them. Simon drops into a crouch and sets the bowl down on the tile, unwrapping the rag and starting to pile ice into the part of the fabric that rests against his palm.

“Here,” He twists the fabric closed and holds it out, Nathan takes it from him to press it to his face.

He crouches like that until the muscles in his thighs start to quiver and his ankles start to tingle. Eventually, he has to stand back up, and Nathan simply looks up at him with his good eye. He stands there, looking down at the pathetic looking young man slumped on the bathroom floor, and wonders what he should do.

“You got crazy eyes, man.” Nathan mumbles after a moment of staring, then he hurries to add. “Not in a bad way or nothin’, they’re just like intense, y’know?”

“We should call the others.” Simon says, because he has no idea how to respond to that. He just turns away, heading towards the door.

“Did you cry?” The question has him freezing up, staring at the doorway.

“What?”

“When I died, did you cry?”

Simon definitely doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just stands quietly.

“I always wondered if anyone would miss me, really miss me.” Nathan’s voice has softened slightly, barely an echo in the bathroom. “If I died.”

“You’re not dead.” Simon says, keeping his back turned.

Nathan is quiet for a long, painful moment. “I bet my mum would file a missing persons report eventually. She’d ring my dad, probably.”

Simon finds the strength to turn around, Nathan is sitting dejectedly on the floor. “But she’s got Jezza now, she doesn’t need me. They’d all just think I took off and leave it at that.” He pulls in a sharp breath, a hitching noise as he stares down at his knees where they’re bent upwards. “I-I don’t matter, I never mattered.”

Nathan looks up then, and his unswollen eye is brimming with tears. “How the fuck am I supposed to live knowing that?”

Simon grits his teeth and steels himself. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m wallowing, Barry, now’s not the time.” Nathan sniffles, reaching up to wipe at his eye.

“Everyone matters, to-to some extent. We all set tiny things into motion that will eventually lead to future events.” He explains hesitantly, gesturing stiffly.

“What fucking bullshit are you on about?” Nathan glares up at him with his good eye.

“You matter,” He insists, Nathan lets out a disbelieving scoff. “You matter to me, you… you prick.”

Nathan’s expression shifts slightly, and his mouth softens from a scowl into a frown. “Did you just call me a prick?”

“Yes,” He tightens his hands into his fists at his sides.

Nathan pulls himself to his feet, looking incredulously at him. “Hold on, back up, why are you mad at me? I just died!”

“I’m angry because you think I don’t care!” His voice sharply bounces off the walls around them. “I killed Lucy for you, not for anyone else, for you!”

“Oh so this was different from the probation worker?” Nathan crosses his arms. “How can I be sure that this isn’t some weird pervy fetish of yours? Knocking off chicks like some snuff film extraordinaire?”

“Because when I was killing her, I was thinking of you.”

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Nathan laughs, trying to push past him. Simon grabs his arm and yanks him back, earning a heated look from the other. “Barry, I don’t need to hear about your weird sex life!”

“I was thinking of you,” Simon repeats. “About how scared you must have been, how you were alone when you died. How much it must have hurt.” With every word, Nathan just looks more and more vulnerable, good eye glistening slightly.

“Yeah?” He’s trying to smile, trying to think of a joke, but Simon can see the humor doesn’t reach him the way it should. His lips tremble slightly, and he presses them together in a firm line.

“I wanted to punish her, for hurting you.” Simon spits, clenching his jaw tight. “I wanted her to be afraid like you were, to feel your pain.”

“Did you get anything out of it other than your rocks off?” Nathan questions, pulling his arm out of Simon’s grip.

“We’re friends,” Simon insists, taking a step back. “You matter to me.”

“Whatever,” Nathan turns slightly away from him, suddenly unable to look at him. Simon knows he’s gone too far, admitted too much, but he can’t find it in him to care. Nathan’s alive, that’s all that matters, and he’d do what he did again in a heartbeat.

He turns away, ready to leave finally. But before he can get more than two steps away, Nathan collides with his back roughly. Simon nearly falls with the impact, staggering slightly. For a second, he thinks he’s being pushed, but then the young man’s long limbs grip onto his shoulders.

Simon stands awkwardly for a moment, before finding the courage to pull Nathan’s arms off him. He turns around before Nathan can retreat and yanks him forward by the arm. They embrace tightly, and Simon feels tears prick his eyes as he holds Nathan’s thin body against him. He’s so fragile, so breakable, and if he didn’t have his power, he would be gone now. Simon can’t help but be extremely grateful.

Nathan clears his throat near Simon’s ear. “Don’t be tellin’ anyone about this.” He mutters in a weak, trembling voice.

Nathan smells like cheap soap, his ribcage digging into Simon’s chest. But he just holds tighter, his chin tucked against Nathan’s shoulder. When they finally manage to pull away, Nathan steps back uncomfortably and goes to retrieve his rag filled with melting ice.

“Are you still feeling sick?” Simon asks as Nathan returns.

“A bit, nauseous.” He admits as he presses the rag to his eye again.

“We can get lunch, eating might settle your stomach.”

Nathan nods his head, a small smirk finding his face. “Maybe we’ll run into some of the others and we can convince them I’m a vengeful but dashing spirit.”

Simon’s lips stretch up at the corners slightly. “We should probably text them.”

“After lunch.” Nathan urges, reaching out and tugging at Simon’s sleeve. “I’m knackered.”

“Not too tired to walk to McDonald’s?” Simon asks as they exit the bathrooms together.

“You insult me, Barry.” He nudges his shoulder into Simon’s, their fingers briefly brush against each other’s. “You’re buying, right?”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Okay so I'm not really sure where I'm going with this after this chapter. I want to do more but I don't want to just slightly alter the whole series? I'm planning to introduce Jamie in the next chapter, but I dunno. Anything you guys wanna see from Nathan and Simon? Any specific scenes from the show you think would be different and worth experiencing in this AU? )


	6. Oh, Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Weirdly enough, it took me a while to finish this because the chapter was too short. Suddenly I got a burst of inspiration and now it's a little longer than it should be. Oh well, I'm sure you aren't mad about that considering how late it is.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter has mentions of some stuff that might be triggering and I'll put it in the bottom notes to explain where the story is heading if you wanna check on that. )

As the others arrive at the community centre, Nathan and Simon are sat outside on a bench waiting for them. Originally, Nathan had devised a plan to scare the others with Simon’s help, but Simon had nixed the idea. He had bought Nathan a cookie at Macca’s, just to get him to agree. Nathan is currently still sipping from his fountain drink, had refilled it before they left. He had been resolutely pouting for the past hour, mourning the loss of a great scare.

He had finished smoking a joint about ten minutes ago, which had improved his mood greatly. He wasn’t limping nearly as bad, and he seemed more content than anything else.

Curtis and Alisha arrive first, walking up cautiously as Nathan waves to them without even removing his straw from between his lips.

“You sure it’s him?” Curtis questions as they get closer.

“Hey, I resent the fact that you can’t tell for yourself! That mental chick spent the day with you, and you didn’t even notice, you wanker.” Nathan objects.

“I’m sure it’s him.” Simon interrupts, as if he really needs to with Nathan trying to yammer on and point the finger at both Curtis and Alisha.

Kelly arrives and promptly smacks Nathan upside the head.

“Ow!” He hollers, rubbing at his ear where she had gotten him good. “Good to see you, I guess.”

“Never do that again.” Kelly insists with a prodding finger to his chest. Simon can’t help but agree with the statement silently.

They all head into the side entrance of the community centre, retreating upstairs to the roof for some privacy. Nathan and Simon bring up the rear, Nathan lagging a little. He still seems tired, obviously trying to put up a normal front for the others. When Simon slows down for him, Nathan offers him a small smile and reaches out to shove at his head playfully.

“You look like shit.” Curtis tells Nathan when they reach the top.

Nathan gives him a mildly irritated look and then sneers purposefully. “You try getting beaten to death, buried, and coming back to life. I bet you won’t be looking so fresh either.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Alisha asks as they find their usual seats.

Nathan sits down on the shitty lounge chair Simon was heading for. But when he moves to find another place to sit, Nathan catches him by the back of his belt loop and yanks him back, sipping at his drink and avoiding his eyes when Simon looks back at him in confusion. Simon carefully lowers himself next to Nathan, their thighs inches apart as the anticipatory silence weighs on all of them.

“Mm, yeah, I guess, bits and pieces.” Nathan pulls at his straw and it makes a squeaking noise, he does it a few more times. “Went to piss, got my head caved in, woke up in the dirt.” The straw squeaks between his words rhythmically. He keeps his eyes on his cup, fidgets a bit at the confession.

“What’s it like?” Curtis murmurs, earning everyone’s gazes. He hesitantly adds, then. “Dying.”

“I dunno, it’s dying.” Nathan waves his hand out, his face scrunching up slightly. “I think the brain damage paralyzed me or somethin’, I just remember starin’ at the toilet. Everything looked fucked up.” He shakes the ice in his cup irritably. “Then my eyes went out, but I could still feel the wall against my back. Then I suppose I died.”

The words make Simon feel like his skin doesn’t fit quite right, like it’s too tight. He wants to move, to run, for some reason. The thought of Nathan spending his last few sew seconds afraid, even if they weren’t really his last few seconds, made him feel panicked. The realization that it could have been it, had Nathan not been lucky enough to have his power.

Simon has the urge to hug Nathan again, but there are too many people around and he knows Nathan might lash out at him for it.

“That’s horrible.” Alisha says softly.

“Wasn’t that scary,” Nathan looks up then, squinting at the sky. “I’ve had worse.”

“Worse than dyin’?” Curtis deadpans at him, disbelieving.

Nathan gets up then, walking over to the edge of the roof. He winds his arm back and slings his cup out beyond the roof, they listen to it clatter of the ice inside before it breaks open against the concrete below with a slightly louder noise. He doesn’t answer Curtis, and they all sit quietly as Nathan gazes out at the town beyond them, his back to the crew.

His silence is somehow a worse answer than any words he could give.

After a moment, he turns around, his mischievous smile back on his face. “I could sell my body to necrophiliacs now, let’em do me and screw me without a care in the world.”

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” Alisha says, standing up. “I have better things to do than hang around here on my day off.” She decides, heading over to the roof door.

Curtis gets up, and Simon wonders why either of them came at all. Maybe just to make sure Simon wasn’t just taking the piss. But then Curtis is pausing and staring at Nathan, where the young man has sat down on the edge of the roof and is staring out at the city once more.

The runner clears his throat right after the door closes behind Alisha, Nathan glances over briefly. “Glad you’re not, dead, or whatever.”

Nathan just nods, so Curtis turns and leaves.

Once the door shuts behind him, Kelly speaks up. “You all right?”

“Don’t get all weird about it.” Nathan insists, getting to his feet.

“You’re the one actin’ weird.” She retorts.

“I think I’m entitled to be a little weird after all this!” Nathan snaps, his voice a slightly higher pitch as he waves his hands. “And Barry if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m gonna wallop you.”

The words startle him, he stammers before gathering the right words to say. “L-Look at you like what?”

“Like-”

“Hey!” The shout from below pauses Nathan before he can say anything, his mouth hanging open as his eyes scroll to the side towards the edge of the roof. He spins around, leaning over to look down at the ground.

“What?”

“I’m lookin’ for Nathan!”

“Who’s askin’?” Nathan snaps back.

“I’m his brother!”

Nathan shoots an incredulous look back at Simon and Kelly, then returns his eyes forward. “I haven’t got a brother! I’m the perfect example of an only child!”

“Not anymore.”

“And how’s that, then?”

“We have the same dad.” Nathan’s eyes slide back towards his friends, he gives a bit of a helpless shrug, Kelly mimics the gesture in return. “He didn’t tell you about me?”

He turns back and sinks down onto the ground, leaned over with an arm propped up on the edge of the roof. “Well we’d have to talk for him to tell me about you.”

“Fair enough.”

“All right, yeah!” Nathan says, tipping his head back and forth thoughtfully. “I always wanted a brother. Stay there, I’ll meet you in a second.”

“Okay.”

“You wanna meet my brother?” Nathan turns his head to smirk at them, all terseness from earlier gone from him entirely.

“A’right.” Kelly shrugs.

“Okay.” Simon nods.

-

Jamie is, well, he’s a lot like Nathan in a way. Got that skinny, gangly physique and the penchant for having a slightly vacant stare when other people were speaking, which Simon didn’t realize could be genetic. It’s an awkward affair, because Nathan can’t really be the person connecting both groups that bridges the gaps between them simply because he doesn’t know Jamie well enough to do so.

“Maybe you two should catch up on your own.” Kelly suggests after having exhausted every casual small-talk topic in a few minutes.

Nathan’s gaze shot to Simon then, whose eyes widened at the realization that the older boy was looking to him for approval. He simply averts his eyes and nods quietly, agreeing without a word. It was probably a good idea, though he feels a bit off, thinking about letting Nathan walk away. Just yesterday he thought the other was dead, and now here he is meeting his estranged brother.

Simon then realizes that if Nathan hadn’t been immortal, Jamie would have shown up and they would have had to lie to his face knowing that Nathan was in the ground under the flyover.

Kelly and Simon watch Nathan walk away with Jamie, the younger inquiring as to the reason Nathan’s face is such a mess. Nathan is spinning a tale with ease as their voices quiet with distance, lies coming to his tongue like second—no, first—nature.

“You a’right?” Kelly’s voice has him looking away. “You and Nathan seem weirder than usual.”

“Fine, just… Long morning.”

Kelly offers him a half-smile. “I get that.”

He turns his gaze back towards where Nathan and Jamie had been and realize they must have turned the corner already. A small twist in his chest has him sighing, he turns away. Nathan made him feel far too strange, and he recalls only feeling it a few times in his life. He hates the first word that comes into his mind.

_I have a crush on Nathan._

“Fuck, that blows.” Kelly says with a hiss, Simon startles and looks to her with mild panic. “I been there, I get it. He’s a twat, but he’s fit and sweet in a stupid way.” She says with a small shrug.

“What should I do?” He wonders aloud, not necessarily addressing Kelly.

“You might have a chance,” At Simon’s stunned expression, she continues. “You’ll have to catch him first.”

“Catch him?” He repeats warily.

“He’s not gonna say or do anything until you make him.”

“How?”

“Dunno, keep me in the loop though.” She nudges him gently as she passes behind him, heading off in the opposite direction that Nathan and Jamie headed.

Simon stands alone, his insides twisting nervously.

-

They all meet up that evening at a club. Despite Simon’s hesitance, Nathan had wheedled him into attending. He’s not one for the club scene, nor the party scene, nor any social scenes in general to be honest. He’s more of a small group of friends gathering kind of person, or a one-on-one person. But Nathan had shown up at his doorstep batting his eyelashes with Jamie hanging back in the street.

“How am I meant to go to a club without my bodyguard?” He had teased, and it had sent a strange rush of warmth through him immediately.

Bodyguard.

Simon had always been small, timid, not to mention painfully awkward. But now maybe he’s been slowly building a different persona, not necessarily changing himself fundamentally, but the persona of himself that other people see. He’s been working out a bit, and he had easily overpowered Lucy, though that wasn’t saying much.

He felt weird about taking such pride in a little meaningless joke. But he was glad that Kelly wasn’t around to hear him think about how much he wants Nathan looking to him for protection. Simon has spent so many years cowering, he feels so damn good at the aspect of being brave, of being a guardian.

Even if Nathan doesn’t really mean it, he keeps leaning into Simon’s shoulder the whole way to the club. He barely says a word to Simon, Jamie and Nathan seem to have made a great rapport already and make small talk easy. But he doesn’t necessarily feel excluded from the conversation, because sometimes Nathan will nudge Simon or turn his head to look at him, like he’s checking in on him. Making sure he’s listening, or maybe making sure he’s still walking with them.

When they reach the club, Simon feels all his newfound confidence get thrown out the window the second they step inside. It’s loud, crowded, and it stinks overbearingly of sweat and God knows what else.

“All right, Barry?” Jamie knocks his shoulder into Simon’s, a bit of a teasing grin on his face.

“Simon.” He calls over the roar, Jamie makes a bit of a face at him. “My name is Simon.”

“Why’s Nathan call you Barry, then?” He leans in to speak, eyes scanning the crowd.

Simon isn’t sure what to say, so he just shrugs uncomfortably. It’s a long, embarrassing story. But he knows that he doesn’t want anyone else calling him Barry, his name is Simon. Nathan is an exception, because, he just is.

They get drinks, and then Jamie is passing around ecstasy. He shakes his head when the young man offers him one, explaining that he doesn’t do drugs. Nearby, Nathan places a tablet on his tongue, shooting an open-mouthed grin at Simon before the small white disc disappears into his mouth.

“Suit yourself! Here.” Jamie holds out a beer, and Simon reaches for it.

Nathan’s hand shoots out and grabs Simon’s wrist, Simon looks to him in confusion. Nathan moves his hand to Simon’s shoulder and pulls him back, stepping between the two and leaning in to say something to Jamie that he can’t hear. Then, Nathan turns to him and offers his own beer, taking the one Jamie had into his own hand. Jamie looks a bit put out but turns away and slips into the crowd.

“What’s wrong?” Simon questions, one hand pressed to his ear.

“Don’t worry about it.” Nathan clinks their bottles together and takes a sip of his.

Within the next hour, they all start to realize that the X has definitely had some unexpected side-effects. Curtis has a future vision, Kelly starts speaking her mind, and Alisha has to be escorted out by Curtis because anyone touching her starts to call her names and act disgusted by her.

“Does that mean I can die?” Nathan asks into Simon’s ear, who turns his head to look at the young man with fear.

“Let’s go.” He takes hold of Nathan’s wrist and they weave their way outside.

“Barry,” Nathan calls out to him when they reach the doorway.

Simon just wants to get them out, the atmosphere feels suffocating and he wants Nathan out of harm’s way. The heavy metal takes a rough push to open but the air that greets them is cool and sharp. When he turns around, Nathan’s face is pinched, discomfort written on his already bruised up features. He pulls at his wrist, Simon lets him go fast.

“Fuck,” Nathan holds his arm up in the light of a nearby lamppost, and Simon can see a bruise already starting to form around his wrist.

“I-I…” Simon feels his stomach drop, sickness welling in his chest.

“I think it’s the X, I’m not that delicate.” He says without lifting his gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Simon says earnestly.

“I’m not dying, Barry, it’s fine.”

“But you could,” Simon glances around warily, sure that there must be something around the corner that will try to kill Nathan.

“I won’t.” Nathan wraps an arm around his shoulders and steers him away from the door. “I’ve got my bodyguard.”

They hover outside for a while, Nathan is noticeably messed up from the ecstasy but he’s not losing his head over it. They sit on the sidewalk against the bricks of the building, watching people come and go. Some of them hop into nearby cars in the parking lot, driving off, others stay parked and the windows fog up as bodies twist together in the dark confines of the vehicle.

“Oh man,” Nathan giggles, blinking a bit exaggeratedly. “I should not have taken two.”

“Are you meant to do that?” Simon asks.

“Fuck if I know,” Nathan props his elbow up on his knee and leans his cheek into his hand. “Was just tryin’ to keep Jamie from dosin’ you.”

Simon thinks about the way Jamie had offered him that beer, he chews on the inside of his cheek. They’re quiet for a bit, Nathan swaying every so often despite sitting down. His mind is spinning out of control again, about Jamie, about Nathan, about Lucy, about everything that’s been happening lately. It feels like they can’t have a normal day anymore.

“Jamie’s a twat.” Nathan grumbles, breaking his quiet. Simon watches him toss a pebble, it bounces off someone’s trunk and clatters across the ground.

“He really tried to drug me?” He asks, staring out at the parking lot thoughtfully.

“Mm? Oh yeah.” Nathan leans into him suddenly, sighing as he drops his head onto Simon’s shoulder.

Simon sits stiffly for a moment, then carefully wraps an arm around the other’s back. He doesn’t want to hurt Nathan again, but he’s sure this is probably fine. Nathan’s warm against him, and Simon tries not to think about how cute he looks compacted into a little ball and curled against him. Nathan Young should not be cute.

“He was tryin’ to get me laid, figured you’d sleep with me if you were plastered.”

Simon freezes up, trying to process the concept of his friend’s estranged brother trying to roofie him. Why would Jamie want Simon to sleep with Nathan anyway?

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a twat, I said that.” Nathan pushes his nose into Simon’s neck with a huff and wraps his arms around Simon’s waist. “You’re sweet though, so I wouldn’t let him.”

Simon feels his ears and cheeks begin to warm. “You think I’m sweet?” A smile starts to play at his lips.

“A’course, you’re cavity-inducing, mate.” Nathan tells him, his voice pitching up an octave.

Simon’s body starts to shake with laughter as Nathan begins to giggle, and then they’re both laughing obnoxiously together. The both of them, cuddled up together on the pavement, laughing. Simon never pictured any part of his life to be like this, holding his sort-of friend outside of a club while they sit on the sidewalk like a couple of idiots. Sure, he used to fantasize that he’d have friends and go to parties, but this is different.

“I should take you back to the centre.” He says gently.

Nathan lets out a whine of complaint. “I don’t want to go back there, it’s boring and lonely. Couldn’t we do something else?”

“You could get hurt.”

“Your name should be No-Fun Simon.” Nathan squirms against him to get comfortable, but he doesn’t pull away, in fact he seems to get closer somehow. One of his legs manages to get thrown over Simon’s, tangling them further together.

“Thought I was Barry.” He teases.

“You’re adorable.” Nathan worms around and ends up with his upper body on Simon’s lap. He reaches up and pokes him in the nose, Simon watches him with amusement.

“Th-Thanks?” He takes Nathan’s wrist before he can poke out Simon’s eye, barely touching it so that he doesn’t cause any new injuries.

Nathan sucks in a sudden gasp, giving Simon a fright. “I know!”

“What?”

“I could stay over at yours, like you said!”

“O-Oh, well…”

“Please? Please, Barry?” Nathan paws at his chest, Simon has to bat him away gently. “Best behavior, I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“Your mum’s not dead.” Simon argues.

“Then why the hell’s she so fuckin’ stiff?” Nathan chimes back, Simon snorts as the other is sitting up. “Come on, man. I’ll even watch one of your nerdy movies, whatever you want.”

For some reason, Nathan sounds a bit desperate, seems sincere. He must really not want to go back to the community centre, though Simon could hardly blame him. Being there after hours can be a bit spooky, the thought of sleeping in the mezzanine wasn’t a pleasant one.

“All right, but you have to be quiet. My mum and my little sister are home.”

“I will be silent and deadly, like a backdoor breeze.” He smacks Simon’s shoulder, who grimaces.

“That’s disgusting.”

“What’s your sister’s name, anyway?” Nathan mutters as Simon gets to his feet.

“Elizabeth,” He replies as he helps Nathan up. “Lizzie.”

“I wanted a sister when I was little.”

Simon wraps an arm around Nathan’s waist automatically as they start to walk. “Yeah?”

“Brother, sister, whatever. Was lonely at home a lot.”

“Did your parents work a lot?”

Nathan sighs and slings his arm over Simon’s shoulders. “Didn’t matter, even when they were home, they never cared. Had me outta wedlock, y’know.”

Simon stays quiet, navigating them down the sidewalk. He’d never heard Nathan this talkative about himself, purely himself. He had an ability to tell stories without ever including information on himself. Must be the drugs, Simon should probably stop him, but he doesn’t.

“Nan went ballistic when mum got pregnant, said for her to marry the bloke or get lost. She wasn’t too young, she even had her own place, but she always listened to nan.”

“Has she passed away?”

“Nan? Nah, lives back home. Haven’t seen her since I was fourteen.”

“You miss her?”

“She’s a right cunt, she is.”

Simon frowns. “Why?”

“She just got her knickers in a twist over something I said, big family scandal and all that.” Nathan waves his hand lazily.

“What’d you say?” A small smirk starts to form on Simon’s face, knowing that Nathan is prone to egregious and outrageous outbursts.

“Told you already, I told off my priest at my confirmation.”

Simon thinks back and remembers back in that storage room with the freezer. “You called him a pedophile.”

“Nan lost it, along with half the family. Mum didn’t speak to me for weeks, was worse than the time I accused her fella of molesting me.” Simon slows to a stop; Nathan turns his head to frown at him. “What?”

“Why do that?” He asks hesitantly.

“Why not?” He offers a playful smile.

“That kind of accusation can ruin someone’s life.”

“Nobody believed me anyway.” Nathan shrugs.

“What if you weren’t lying? What if you really needed help? But all you ever do is lie, so nobody would believe you.”

“Shut up.”

“You call _me_ a pedophile all the time too, it just seems… Weird.” Simon says, and he feels a bit of tightness in his chest when he looks over and watches Nathan’s expression twist into something dark and angry. He pulls away from Simon, leaning into the nearest building so it’ll hold him up.

“Piss off, Barry.” He says quietly.

“You brought it up!” He objects.

“Yeah, well, I’m hammered.” Nathan scoffs, crossing his arms, staring down the street as his jaw visibly clenches.

“I just don’t understand.”

“Yeah, well, _you_ wouldn’t, would you?” Nathan snaps. “You’re just some nobody, some invisible little twat that nobody ever looked twice at.”

“Shut up.” Simon scowls.

“I bet you’ve never even had a real kiss, I bet that kiss I gave you was the first time another person’s lips touched you that weren’t your mum’s.”

Simon feels anger flare in his stomach, his hands itch to ball into fists. He wonders how easily Nathan’s bones would break in this state. “You’re just angry because you can’t tell me why you did it.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Barry. You don’t know a fucking thing.”

“Why tell me anything if you’re just going to act like a prick?”

“I’m a prick? You’re a pathetic loser!” Nathan snarls, getting in his face.

“At least I don’t live in a community centre!” Simon pokes him in the chest, hard, and doesn’t care if it hurts.

He watches the hurt flicker in Nathan’s eyes, and relishes in it for a moment. Good, Nathan deserves the hurt that he dishes out onto everyone for no reason. He needs to be knocked down a peg, acting like this and then expecting everyone to put up with it. He expects Nathan to dig into him again, to storm off, to scream at him. What he doesn’t expect is to see his eyes glass over slowly, welling up with tears.

The vindication of hitting a soft spot vanishes, and he just feels like a prick. How Nathan always manages to do that is beyond him.

“Nathan,” He reaches out, only to have his hand roughly smacked away.

“Fuck off.” He tries to turn, to walk away, but Simon yanks him back by his jacket sleeve.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes quietly, Nathan shakes his head and won’t meet his eyes, averting his gaze down the block once more. There’s a wetness in the corner of his eye, and more tears threatening to fall. “You can’t blame me for getting upset when you act like this.”

“Whatever.” Nathan shifts his jaw irritably.

“You can go back to the community centre, but I don’t want you to go by yourself.”

“My knight in shining armor.” Nathan says with biting sarcasm,

He turns in one direction and heading off down the sidewalk, Simon catches him two steps later and turns him around.

“Community centre’s that way.” Nathan objects grumpily.

“We’re not going there.”

Nathan stops short, Simon walks around him so they can face each other. “What if I don’t want to go to your stupid house? It probably smells like nerd.”

“Would you rather go back to the community centre?”

“Fine, stop begging me, I’ll come over.” Nathan crosses his arms, glaring down at the pavement.

They begin their walk once more, this time with silence and a foot between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Trigger Warning: Mentions of childhood sexual abuse.
> 
> Okay so in this chapter Simon is starting to broach on the subject of stuff Nathan has said and is pressing about mentions of Nathan accusing people in his life of molesting him or being pedophiles. Pretty much, if you can't tell, I have a headcanon that I'm likely to touch on in this story which is that Nathan does have sexual abuse in his past. Any further mentions will not likely be super graphic, but it will be mentioned in a more serious manner later on. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, make sure to leave a comment below if you liked the chapter! )


	7. Bedroom Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( All right, new chapter. 
> 
> This one I actually wrote like a good chunk of dialogue and then deleted a bunch of it and rewrote it. I'm trying to keep things in character but the best way I can explain it is that Nathan fears losing Simon more than he fears being vulnerable at this point so it makes him admit things a little more readily. 
> 
> There's going to be some heavy dialogue in this one, and some triggering content. I'll put the explanation of it at the notes at the end of the chapter. You can look at them to see what's going on, if you read the last chapter you probably know where this is heading. )

Nathan has gone from brooding to pouting by the end of their walk. Neither of them has said a word, but Simon reminds Nathan when they get to the front door that his little sister and mum should be asleep, so they need to be quiet. He gets in the doorway, shuffling to the side so that Nathan can lazily traipse inside. As he shuts the door, a voice rings out from nearby.

“I was wondering when you were coming ho—oh, you have a guest.” Simon freezes up as his mother appears from the living room.

Of course, Lizzie peeks her head from behind her mother. He checks the hall clock and realizes it’s not nearly as late as he figured it to be. But still, Lizzie should at least be in bed.

“Ehm…” Simon looks back at Nathan uncomfortably, whose eyes are still a bit glazed over and seems merely amused by the disruption of their plans. “This is Nathan.”

“Hello, Nathan, I’m Therese.” She holds out her hand, Simon holds his breath and prepares himself for payback for his earlier words. He would expect sober, everyday Nathan to say something rude or nasty, he’s dreading what inebriated Nathan might say.

But, instead of being rude or calling his mother hot or ugly or whatever might tickle him, Nathan just takes her hand pleasantly. “It’s a pleasure, miss.”

“I’m Elizabeth, but you can call me Lizzie.” Lizzie pipes up from behind her mother, looking a bit red in the cheeks.

“Lizzie,” He takes her hand, leaning forward a bit so they’re closer in height. “Nobody really calls me anything but Nathan. Well, there are some words, but I don’t think I’m meant to say those around classy ladies such as yourselves.”

Simon smiles awkwardly at his mother as she gives him a bit of an unsure look. He knows he’s going to have a lot of questions to answer the next day, but hopefully his mother won’t disapprove too much. He just needs to get Nathan away from them before he slips up and says something Simon wishes he hadn’t. But Lizzie seems enamored with the Irishman, piping up again.

“What about Nate?” She asks, still holding Nathan’s hand for some reason. “I know a boy named Nathan; we call him Nate.”

“I suppose you could call me that.” Nathan looks back at Simon with a smirk and twitches an eyebrow at him, Simon finds himself starting to blush.

“Are you from Ireland?” Lizzie asks as Nathan finally pulls his hand away, standing up straight.

“Yep, Portlaoise.” Simon never knew that, he supposed he never thought about it too much.

“That’s quite a black eye you’ve got there.” Therese comments, Simon cuts her a pleading look, but she’s firmly ignoring him. He can see the look on her face, the twist of her lips that says ‘Oh, so you’re bringing home a ruffian’.

“Yes, ma’am, I was mugged recently.” Simon glances to Nathan in surprise, watching him put on a pitiful little face.

“Oh dear.” He watches his mother completely fall for it, and he realizes that Nathan’s talent for lying might just come in handy for once. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“They hit you?” Lizzie questions, aghast, Nathan nods.

“Quite a few times actually.” He holds his wrist out, brandishing Simon’s slowly purpling fingerprints on his skin.

“That’s awful,” Therese murmurs. “Would you like some tea, Nathan? We were just making some before bed.”

Nathan waves a hand. “No thanks, miss.”

“Nathan and I were going to watch a movie in my room.” Simon finally finds his voice again, already placing a hand behind the older boy’s back to usher him towards the stairs.

“What movie?” Lizzie starts to follow them, only for Therese to stop her short.

“It’s nearly bedtime, love.”

“Another time, Liz.” Nathan waggles his fingers at her and shoots the girl a charming smile, and she nods, though seeming disappointed.

“Have a good night, boys.” Therese calls after them.

Simon feels his heart beating fast as they reach the second floor. He makes a beeline to his room, opening the door and yanking Nathan inside before shutting it. He leans back against the door, resting the crown of his head against it and shutting his eyes with a tired sigh. When he opens them again, Nathan is wandering around his room, observing everything.

“Makes sense.”

Simon blinks, stepping away from the door and standing awkwardly. He feels a bit tense, even though it’s his own room. “What does?”

“I figured you’d have a room like this.”

“Like what?”

“ _Geekified_.” Nathan snorts, then steps up to the display case hanging from the wall. “What’s this?”

“Butterflies.” He answers weakly, stepping closer.

“Are they real?”

“Yes.”

“Man, that’s some Hannibal Lecter shit.” Nathan snorts. “Do you have a box of animal skeletons somewhere in here as well?”

“No.” He answers shortly, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto his desk chair. “Hannibal Lecter ate people, the other killer was the one who had insects, and they were moths.”

“Never finished the movie.” Nathan turns around and sinks down onto his messy bed. “Everything in here is OCD levels of clean and your bed looks like shit, what gives?”

Simon stares at the head of the bed, the pillow he had soaked with tears the night before thinking that Nathan was gone forever. “Had to leave quickly because someone called me about being buried without flowers.”

“Touché.” Nathan wags a finger at him. “It’s just rude, man. I’d put flowers on your secret grave.” He says.

“Would you?” Simon asks, amused.

“Nah, I’d probably get some girl’s panties. You’d like those more, probably.”

Simon shakes his head and wonders why he forced Nathan to come with him. All he does is insult him and cause trouble, he’s not worth any of Simon’s time. He just likes to mess with his head and act out, and likely, he would never reciprocate any of his affection properly. Simon would be dragged along, and in a short period of time, Nathan would disappear.

His silence must have had some sort of effect on Nathan because he’s staring at Simon now, no sign of amusement or mischief. “What I said, earlier…” He trails off.

“Yeah?” Simon doesn’t want to offer him an out, he wants an apology of his own. He waits, lets Nathan squirm.

“I don’t really think…” He trails off, can’t even look in Simon’s direction, sitting hunched over and staring over near the window. “You know what I mean, right?”

“No.”

“Son of a fuck, Barry, do you have to be such a prick?”

Simon is quiet, watching Nathan carefully, wondering if he’s ever given a genuine apology in his lifetime.

“You were fuckin’ right,” And well, that’s not really an apology, but it’s something. “You were right, I was acting like a dickhead.”

“You were.” Simon agrees, earning a bit of a scathing look from the other before Nathan looks away again guiltily.

“I just don’t like to talk about it.”

“About what?”

He wrings his hands, leaned over to stare at his feet on the carpet. “About what happened, about the _priest_ , a-about _David_.”

“David.” Simon echoes, confused.

“You were right, about all that. Boy cried wolf, all that mess. Nobody ever believes me about anything, and that’s on me. I’ve been making shit up since I was old enough to talk, another shitty quality from dear old dad.” Nathan prattles, his words spilling out of him quickly, he sounds nervous.

“Oh.”

“Maybe it was because I didn’t get enough attention, or maybe I was born a piece of shit.” He stands up, restless. When Simon doesn’t interrupt, he walks a line to the window and back to the door. “But I’m trying to be nice because I…” He pauses, sighing irritably. “Because I _care_ about your stupid fucking feelings.”

“Yeah?” Simon finds himself smiling despite the conversation, Nathan crosses his arms and turns his back to him.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He grunts, tapping his foot. “And being nice means not lying, right?”

“Sometimes, I suppose.” He’s not sure where this is going, he feels lost.

“You wanted to know why I did it. Why I said that shit about them.”

“Yes.” Simon nods.

“Fuck.” Nathan sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Forget it, you won’t believe me.”

“I will.” Simon assures him, feeling his palms start to sweat. He thinks he knows where this is going, and he’s scared to hear it, but he needs to know now.

“No, you won’t.” Nathan drops down onto the rug at the foot of the bed where Simon can only see the back of his head. “You’ll think I’m full of shit.”

Simon moves forward, lying down on his stomach so that he can see where Nathan has his knees curled to his chest. He reaches out and presses a gentle hand to Nathan’s shoulder. He knows Nathan has been trying, that if he had wanted to, he would have cracked a joke and left in a second. But he thinks Nathan wants to get closer, he wants to show Simon that he’s human. It makes sense that there’s a lot of scary things underneath that façade, and if he’s willing to share it, Simon’s willing to hear it.

“Try me.”

Nathan is silent, either contemplating the truth of Simon’s words or trying to gather his own. Simon keeps his hand on the older boy’s shoulder, resting his cheek on his own arm and waiting.

“I wasn’t lying,” Nathan’s voice is hoarse, soft. “About mum’s fella.”

Simon pulls in a slow, deep breath, drinking in the implication of the words. “But nobody believed you?”

“Mum did, at first. Dad called me a liar out of the gate, he told the cops that I was probably just trying to get attention.” Nathan mutters, picking at a thread in his jeans. “I guess the cops believed him because they kept asking me if I was sure. Someone asked me if I was lying, and I took the out.”

Simon’s eyes widen. “Why?”

“My mum and dad started arguing, and mum started crying.” Nathan confesses grudgingly. “I hate when she cries.”

“They just let you take it back?” Anger pulses through him. What the hell was wrong with these people? “They didn’t arrest him?”

“Nah, but they read me the riot act about being a little liar. Mum tore into me for weeks, she still mentions it. She made me apologize to David.”

“Did she stay with him?” Simon moves his hand, pushes himself further forward. He wraps his arm over Nathan’s chest in some form of comfort. Nathan startles a bit, and for a second, Simon almost pulls away. Before he can, the older reaches up and takes hold of his wrist, squeezing it gently.

“For a bit, until I chased him off. She never really had a guy 'round for long after that, I got good at getting them to piss off.” He rests his chin on Simon’s forearm, sighing.

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

Eight years old, Simon can’t even begin to imagine what something like that could do to a person. To have that done to him, to be known as a liar, to never be able to say anything without someone doubting the truth of your word. It fills him with rage, it makes him sad, and more importantly it makes him want to protect Nathan even more. He wonders if it’d be worth tracking this David person down, knocking his skull against some drywall or tossing him off a building. Then, he remembers something.

“What about the priest?”

“I thought it was just me. Probably stupid to think, but I guess I never really thought about it.” He shrugs. “Mum made me be a choir boy after I got kicked off the footie team for calling the coach’s wife a fat cow.”

“What for?” Simon asks.

“Because she was a fat cow, keep up, Barry.” Nathan reaches back and takes hold of some of Simon’s fringe, tugging on it in an attempt to tease. Simon notices that his hand shakes as it pulls away. “Father Cassidy was in charge of the choir, he looked at me like that prick did before. I knew what was gonna happen when I went off with him alone, but I did it anyway."

“Why?”

“S’like the inevitable, y’know? Happened once, it’ll happen again. Might as well get it over with so I could go home and scrub myself down.”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _Don’t_.” Nathan shakes his head, reaching up and burying his fingers in his curls, tightening his hand into a fist. “Just…”

“Okay.”

“I wasn’t gonna say nothin’, not until I saw one of the younger boys come downstairs with Father O’Connell.” He pulls away from Simon’s grasp, and for a moment he thinks that Nathan might just bolt. But instead he turns around, sitting on his knees and staring into Simon’s eyes. His cheeks are damp, eyes watery instead of glassy now. “Anyone else wouldn’t have seen it, but _I_ _did_. I looked at him and I saw the look in his eyes, I _knew_ what that look meant.”

Simon is speechless as Nathan braces his hands on the younger’s shoulders, squeezing. He pulls in a deep breath, glances away briefly, and a tear rolls down his cheek. He blinks, gathers himself, and then returns his eyes to Simon’s. He looks faraway somehow, like he’s seeing it still, and it scares Simon.

“Didn’t even plan it, O'Connell was just _there_ when I walked up during the ceremony that day. He asked me my new name, and it just came out.” His mouth twists into a warped smile, a breathless laugh escaping him. “He never even touched me, but I just…” Simon watches his lost expression turn wrathful and angry. “I _hated_ him, so much, I hated _all_ of them. I just started shouting, and calling him a pedophile, a pervert, a cock-gobbler.”

“Nobody believed you.” Simon says quietly as Nathan lets go of his shoulders.

“ _No_ , course not. Nobody came forward, I didn’t have any proof. My mum practically dragged me out.” He sits back on his haunches, tucks his hands into his lap and stares down at them. “Nan slapped the shit out of me in the parking lot and after that, mum’s side of the family told us to piss off. I got kicked out of school, and we moved to Dublin. Got kicked out of a bunch there too, so we moved here.”

“What for?” He never figured Nathan to be a good student, but he’d like to hear more.

“Because fuck them, that’s why! Teachers never liked me, nobody did, not even my own mum.” He scowls at Simon. “But people laughed when I yanked a teacher’s pants down 'round their ankles, so I figured, what have I got to lose?”

Simon’s a bit speechless, to hear Nathan’s blatant reasoning behind years of pulling stunts. He just simply didn’t know what else to do, he couldn’t figure out how to garner proper attention. His mum seems like she might be neglectful, his dad a downright prick. He’s probably been acting out since he was little, and it only got progressively worse up until this point. All the way up until his arrest, getting put in community service.

A lone figure, screaming into a void without anyone responding. Until now, until Simon.

“I’ve never told anyone any of this, actually.” Nathan looks a little surprised at his own revelation, his eyes are still a little red rimmed. He then looks up at Simon with trepidation. “But we’re mates, _right_?”

“O-Oh, of course.” He assures.

“Good, right.” He scrubs at his face to rid himself of the tear marks, then sighs. “Anyways, I suppose… I’m sorry for being a dick.” His last sentence escapes him quickly, so fast that Simon almost doesn’t process it.

“Oh.” He forgot that was where this conversation began in the first place. “That’s all right."

“It is?” Nathan seems puzzled.

“Don’t do it again?” Simon tries awkwardly.

“I guess I just figured there would be more of an argument.” The older looks away, still seeming mildly perturbed by the acceptance of his meek apology.

They lapse into quiet, Nathan sitting on the floor and Simon sprawled out along the length of his bed. Simon is trying to process all that he’s been told, the amount of trust that Nathan had allowed him to admit to all of that. He can’t figure out if he’d been wanting to admit that for years or if he had been pressured to admit it to explain himself in the first place.

Either way, Simon knows what it’s like to have personality flaws that get in the way of interacting with others. Nathan gets defensive easily, he covers things up with humor and shock-value. He doesn’t know exactly what Nathan is aiming for, but he’s reaching out in a way that Simon wouldn’t have expected in a million years. He figured he would have to drag the older kicking and screaming into everything.

“You’re not mad, though, right?” Nathan’s voice breaks him from his contemplation. “You’re not just going to say it’s fine and then still be mad until I figure it out, right?”

“No.” His eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I do that?”

“My mum does that shit, pisses me off.” Nathan’s sitting with his back to Simon again, rubbing at the bruise on his wrist that’s been progressively getting a darker color over the last few hours.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, drawing both of their attention away from their conversation. The door opens before Simon can even call out, and Lizzie peeks inside.

“I have to go to bed, but _mum_ said I could say goodnight.” She leans further into the room, letting go of the doorknob and stepping fully into the room with a smile at Nathan.

“Elizabeth,” Simon warns her.

“Simon Edward Bellamy, I’m just saying goodnight.” She chides him teasingly, Simon grits his teeth as Nathan’s head snaps around.

“Your middle name is _Edward_?!” He demands shrilly, mouth pulling into a wide grin.

Simon looks to his sister with a scowl. “Get out, or I’ll tell Nathan about what happened during holiday last year.”

Lizzie’s face starts to redden, her eyes dart to Nathan and then back to Simon. “You _wouldn’t_!”

“I would very much like to know.” Nathan leans his chin on the edge of the bed, a Cheshire cat like smile on his face now.

“Out.” Simon points to the door, Lizzie scowls at him and stomps over to the door. When she turns around to glare at him, he flashes a winning smirk at her. “Goodnight, _butterfly_.”

“You’re so embarrassing!” She snaps, slamming the door behind her.

“Butterfly?” Nathan guffaws, Simon looks over at him with a smile.

“My dad calls her that.” He says, Nathan is staring at him with mild amusement.

“What happened on holiday, then?” He whispers, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Simon shakes his head, sitting up and leaning back against his headboard. “She’d murder me.”

“You can’t tease it if you aren’t willing to spill it, c’mon!” He scrambles up onto the bed, not minding that to lay sprawled out he has to drape part of himself over Simon’s legs.

“We went to a waterpark, she went down a slide and the bottom half of her swimsuit came off.” He admits quietly, trying to hide his amusement. “A boy her age picked it up out of the water and announced it to the entire nearby area. She had to go up to him and say they were hers.”

“Oh, man.” Nathan lets out a groaning laugh. “Never figured you for a water park kinda guy. You’re so pasty, you’d probably blind people if you went shirtless.”

Simon tries not to feel too embarrassed at the remark. “I went on a few slides with her, but I mostly just sat in the shade.”

“You would.” Nathan rolls over onto his back, but then promptly throws his arm over Simon’s lap again. “Simon Edward Bellamy.” He lets out a quiet giggle, Simon shakes his head.

“What’s your middle name then?”

Nathan mimes zipping his lips. “Confidential.” He says out the side of his mouth.

“That’s not fair, you know mine!”

“You’ll have to barter for it! What do you have that I want?” He gazes up at Simon with a bright smile, and Simon tries not to think about how pretty he looks even with the bruised eye.

He sighs. “I told you the story about Lizzie.”

“Should have used it to your advantage, sorry.” Nathan reaches up and pokes him in the sternum. Simon looks away dejectedly, staring out at his window as he tries not to feel too disappointed. “Ugh, don’t make that face.” He insists.

“What face?” He murmurs, looking back down.

“All right, fine! Ignatius.”

“What?” Simon looks down at Nathan in surprise.

“Nathan Ignatius Young.”

“You made fun of Edward and your middle name is _Ignatius_?” He asks, baffled.

“I’ll have you know, Ignatius is the patron saint of soldiers. It’s a badass name, Edward sounds like a sparkly vampire or-or a granddad."

“It’s my granddad’s name.” Simon counters.

“So I’m right, then.”

“Yes, Nate. You're right.” He relents.

Quiet befalls them, Simon waits for Nathan to say something, but he’s still and silent. He looks down at Nathan, who’s staring up at him. It’s hard to make out his expression considering he’s sort of looking at Simon upside down, but his face almost looks like it’s frowning. “What?”

“What’d you say?” Nathan’s voice is quiet, gentle.

“I said you’re right.” He repeats casually, then thinks for a moment. “Nate.” He adds softly.

“Oh,” His eyes turn up to the ceiling, thoughtful.

Simon feels a bit of nerves start to bundle in his stomach again. “Is that all right?”

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Trigger Warning!
> 
> In this chapter, Nathan discloses to Simon that he was sexually abused as a child. Nothing graphic is mentioned, but he admits to having been sexually abused by his mother's ex-boyfriend and a priest.
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter, if you did, please leave a kudos and a comment if you can! )


	8. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hey, so my finals are tomorrow and I should be studying but I cranked out the last couple hundred words of this chapter instead. Hopefully, I'll get back into the swing of things and be updating quicker. Thanks for sticking around, and thanks for all the loving comments! I hope you like this chapter, I read every single comment I get with a big grin on my face. )

Things felt a bit weird for the rest of the evening, not necessarily bad weird, but there was a slightly different tension between Simon and Nathan after that. They started up a movie on Simon’s laptop and sat together on the bed watching. Nathan didn’t hesitate to put his head on Simon’s shoulder to see properly, and had been making lewd, rude, or teasing comments most of the movie. After about an hour, though, he started to quiet.

Simon only realized when his mum knocked gently on the door and opened it, that Nathan must be asleep. He doesn’t move at all, and Simon is sort of trapped under his head. Mortification fills him as his mother lays eyes on the two of them cozied up together in bed. He can see the calculating look on his mother’s face, and he holds his breath for a moment.

“Is he staying the night, then?” She says quietly, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Yes.”

“Do you have…” She pauses, seeming uncomfortable. “Are you being safe?”

“Mum. He begs quietly.

“Just don’t tell your father, you know how he is.” She says, and he doesn’t exactly know what to do with that.

Of course, he knows how his father is, never happy with Simon in the least. Simon is too quiet, Simon doesn’t stand straight enough, Simon doesn’t like football or cricket. It seems like from the day he sprung from the womb, he’d been letting his father down, he’s sort of gotten used to it. He wanted to know what his mother thought about this, but apparently, she couldn’t really care all that much. But he supposes, he can’t really be surprised about that either. She always did focus on Lizzie more than him, both of them did.

Simon was the testing prototype, Lizzie was the successful final product.

His mother shuts the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Nathan is quiet against his shoulder, breathing deeply. He’s probably sleeping off the drugs. But neither of them are really in bed, just sort of sitting atop it. Simon shuts his laptop and sets it onto his bedside table, carefully removing himself from under Nathan’s head.

He gets up and takes off his trousers, putting on a pair of pajama bottoms and then glancing over at Nathan. He’s in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, which he could probably sleep in just fine. At least he had taken off the clothes that Simon had given him, he wondered where those were, but figured he probably wouldn’t see them again. But if his mother had spotted Nathan in those clothes, she might have thought worse.

Nathan and Simon aren’t together, though he does sort of want them to be. He’s not sure if that’s a possibility really, he’s not sure exactly how things would work. He just wants, well, this. He wants to have Nathan cuddle up to him for a movie, he wants more of those kisses, specifically some on the lips. Nathan had been right earlier that night in saying he’d never really been kissed before.

Nathan shifts suddenly, turning over. “Barry, what are you doing, you creepy fuck?” He grumbles tiredly.

“You’re in your trousers.” He says, instead of explaining the other thoughts in his head.

“Christ, you and your anal obsession with my sleepwear!” Nathan squirms out of his jeans, throwing them onto the floor. “Are you just gonna watch me sleep, or are you coming to bed?”

Simon obediently approaches the side of the bed, though he’s not sure how to approach the situation. Usually Nathan drapes himself on Simon, not the other way around, he’s not really comfortable taking on that role. He stands there debating his options for a moment before Nathan lets out the most dramatic put-upon sigh Simon thinks he’s ever heard before he’s turning over once more to lay on his other side facing Simon.

“It’s your bed, man, grow some balls!” He insists, patting the mattress next to him.

Simon sighs and slowly climbs onto the bed again, carefully arranging himself next to Nathan without touching him too much. It takes about thirty seconds of precise shuffling before Nathan grabs hold of his arm and yanks it over his side. He tucks Simon’s arm against his own chest, effectively pulling the younger’s chest up against Nathan’s back.

“Lay still, I’m tryna sleep.” He mutters, Simon breathes through his nose as quietly as possible.

After about a minute, he slowly starts to relax as best he can. He adjusts himself into a bit more comfortable arrangement, pries his arm out of Nathan’s hold so he can pull the blankets up over them. When he lays back down, he hesitantly reaches his arm back over, smiling when Nathan cuddles his arm to his chest once again.

Finally, he settles down, his chest against Nathan’s warm back and his nose inches away from the back of the older boy’s neck. He can feel his toes brushing against Nathan’s ankles, and he knows that in the dark he must be bright red, but he doesn’t very much care. He’s cuddling Nathan Young, spooning him to be precise. He slides his arm carefully under Nathan’s pillow, so it doesn’t fall asleep so easily, but Nathan doesn’t stir or say anything.

Nathan smells like sweat, like his deodorant is wearing off and his body odor is starting to edge into his scent. But if Simon leans his face in a little bit closer, his nose brushes Nathan’s curls and he can smell his cheap shampoo.

His mind is whirring idly, distantly thinking about a million things at once. It takes a while for Simon to stop thinking so much, but the second he achieves it, he falls asleep.

-

“Simon and Nathan, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” He stirs groggily, light behind his eyelids and brain slowly coming online.

He sits up and squints his eyes open, focusing on the blurry figure of his little sister in the doorway. “Get out!”

“Does mum know your boyfriend slept over?” She grips the doorknob and leans, swinging one way and then the other, looking over her shoulder at him.

Simon reaches behind him and grips a pillow, throws it at her. She swings out of the way and stumbles, landing on her backside near his bookshelf. Nathan grumbles something under his breath and tucks his face closer to Simon’s hip, definitely not helping the situation. He swings his legs out of the bed as Lizzie is getting up, throwing himself off his mattress and storming over towards her. He won’t do anything, not really, but he likes to keep her as somewhat scared of him as he can. It’s the only way he can get any peace.

Lizzie shrieks and sprints out of the room, he grabs his door. “Stay out of my room!” He hollers after her, listening to her bound down the stairs laughing. He throws the door shut.

Pest.

“I’m glad I don’t have a sister.” Nathan tells him, not even having sat up from bed. Still snuggled up in the sheets, eyes still closed.

Simon stares at him briefly, thinking about how he spent the night curled up with him there. Warm in the sheets, tucked against Nathan’s back, the bed probably smells like him now. He wonders if he’d be okay with that, going to bed tonight with Nathan’s smell on his pillow. It’d probably just make Simon miss him. Maybe he’d wash everything, just to avoid it.

“Staring.” Nathan mumbles, pulling him out of his head.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Nathan shifts on the mattress, adjusts his position, and falls still. “Have fun.”

-

Simon spends his shower wondering if things are going to be different now, like they had felt different the night before. Nathan had spilled possibly his darkest secrets, to Simon, and nobody else in the world knew them. Nathan said he wanted them to be friends, but he wasn’t acting like a friend, was he? Maybe Nathan’s just affectionate with his friends.

Simon runs himself in circles for a while, gets shampoo in his eye, and promptly drops the bottle on his foot. Eventually, he drags himself out, knowing he’ll have to face Nathan sooner or later. Not to mention he didn’t want to leave Nathan unattended for too long, he could get up to trouble or Lizzie could come back. She has far too much information on him, he should probably smother her before she leaks any of the bad stuff to his best friend.

Best friend. Is Nathan his best friend?

He pulls on some boxers he brought with him and ruffles his hair with a towel, foregoing the flat iron. He usually likes to straighten his hair; it makes it uniform and he likes the way it feels. However, he feels like if he doesn’t get back to Nathan soon, the house is gonna cave in. He shaves, then brushes his teeth, and then heads back to his room.

Nathan is thankfully still in bed when he returns, sprawled out on the mattress, though his eyes are open and he’s staring over at the window. The swelling around his eye has gone down significantly, Simon wonders if his powers extended to quicker healing because it looks much better than it had the night before. Though he doesn’t think he’s had enough experience with black eyes to know for sure if that’s normal. Nathan sits up lazily when Simon gets closer to the bed, looking him up and down appraisingly. Simon is far more naked than Nathan, but he hadn’t thought to grab anything but boxers. It’s his usual thing, to bring the boxers to the shower and then come back to dress in his room.

But now Nathan’s here, and Simon’s in his pants like a twat.

“What?” He mutters after Nathan’s lips quirk up slightly.

“You’re a hairy fuck.”

If Simon could have the planet catch fire and kill all humanity at any point, he’d probably prefer it be right now.

“So?” He turns away, opening his dresser and lifting his hands awkwardly. He wants to get his clothes out as quickly as possible but he’s not clear on what he wants to wear yet, and he refuses to tear through his neatly folded clothes in his anxiety.

“I just didn’t expect it.” Nathan tells him casually, when Simon sneaks a peek over his shoulder, the older boy is watching him. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Is your ass hairy too?”

Simon’s ears and face feel like they’re on fire, he’s just staring at the clothes in the drawer he’s opened. No less naked than a minute ago, but he can’t concentrate. He must look like an idiot.

“Why are you standing there like a twat?” Oh great, now they both know.

“You’re making me nervous.”

“Weird, figured I always made you nervous.” The bed frame squeaks, Nathan must have leaned against it, but Simon is resolutely not looking at him.

“Not always.”

“But sometimes?” Nathan wheedles, amused.

“Yes.” He allows grudgingly.

“For Christ’s sake, Barry, we change in front of each other all the time.” Nathan insists, getting up and grabbing him by the shoulder to pull him back from the dresser. He reaches for Simon’s clothes in the dresser, and Simon grabs hold of his wrists in an iron grip.

“No!” He hadn’t meant to shout, but he did.

Nathan winces and Simon lets him go, remembering the bruise on his wrist from the night before. It’s a dark purple color already, and Simon feels twice as guilty about it. They both stare at each other, wide-eyed, Simon’s in panic and Nathan seemingly stunned. Simon’s face is getting even hotter, probably pink all over at this point.

“I-I don’t like people… touching my things.” He says, his voice coming out soft and a bit squeaky.

“All right, don’t pitch a fit.” Nathan says, though he doesn’t seem serious, nor joking either somehow. Simon must have rattled him, he feels guilty, he hadn’t meant to scare Nathan. He just doesn’t like people touching his stuff, especially if it’s been neatly made up or organized.

“Sorry.” He says miserably, staring down at the floor, hands curled into tense fists at his sides.

“It’s whatever, man.” Which, Simon has no idea what that even means, but okay.

He manages to gather himself enough to get dressed and is in the middle of buttoning his shirt when Nathan speaks again. “Hold on, why’s your hair like that?”

Nathan is suddenly in front of him again, Simon feels a little more at ease somehow knowing that he hadn’t scared him off so badly that he couldn’t violate his personal space anymore. He reaches out and pushes his fingers into Simon’s hair, which is nearly dry. He hasn’t had someone purposefully touch his hair in a while, and anyone in that category was probably family. He didn’t like his hair to be messed up when he straightened it.

“I-I straighten it.” He admits hesitantly, ducking his head and waiting for the mockery.

Instead Nathan lets out a delighted laugh and ruffles his hair. “Why?”

Simon looks up at him, both of Nathan’s hands are in his hair now, running his fingers through it. It should bother him, but he’s too busy reeling from the fact that Nathan is willingly touching him like this. He seems enamored with Simon’s hair, and if he’d known this, he would have stopped straightening it a while back. He’s burned himself enough times, and it takes a lot of his morning up doing it. He likes it, but it’s not something he can’t do without.

“I dunno, just tried it one day and liked it.” He shrugs.

“You’d look like less of a prick if you didn’t.” Nathan says idly, pushing his hands through the loose curls and then his hands slide down to Simon’s shoulders.

He must see something in Simon’s expression, because he sighs. “You look… good.” He corrects himself quietly, tone genuine.

“Really?” He can’t help but smile up at Nathan, who wraps his arms around the back of Simon’s neck casually. It brings them closer to each other, Nathan is looking at him fondly.

“Yeah, but you might need to fix it because it’s sticking up everywhere.” He snorts.

“You did that.” Simon reaches up to tame his hair, Nathan pulls away with a grin.

“I did nothing of the sort.” He runs a hand through his hair, messy and wild as always. “I should check on Jamie.” He reaches down and snags his jeans, pulling his phone from the pocket. He fiddles with it for a moment, then sighs. “Dead.” He grumbles.

“You can try my charger.” Simon offers, unplugging his own phone and looking at the screen. Kelly called him a few times, probably trying to figure out where they were. He hopes she wasn’t too worried, he shoots her a text telling her that he’s with Nathan and they’re both okay.

“Breakfast?” He asks as Nathan curses and fights with the charger.

“Is your mum going to interrogate me again?”

Simon smirks. “No, she’s gone to work by now.”

“Then sure.” He gives up, shoves his phone in his pocket. “Whatever.”

-

Simon and Nathan sit and eat cereal together in the kitchen, Simon at the table like a dignified person and Nathan sitting on the kitchen counter. Lizzie walks in and does a double take at Nathan, stepping up to the refrigerator.

“Mum doesn’t let us sit on the counter.” She tells him, though she doesn’t seem to be reprimanding, just commenting. If Simon had done it, she’d likely be telling their mother the second she got home.

Nathan points a spoon at her, cheek full of cereal. “Mums say a lot of things, I think they have a handbook.” He tells her.

Simon gives him an unimpressed look. “A handbook?”

“You’re gonna tell me that mums don’t all have a secret repertoire to ruin all fun? I call bullshit, Barry.” Nathan insists, scooping more cereal from the bowl and shoveling it into his mouth.

“Who’s Barry?” Lizzie asks, approaching the kitchen table. She’s dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, her dark hair tied back into a braid, and is that… lip gloss? She isn’t usually dressed until later in the morning, which means she was likely trying to dress up for a certain Irishman.

“It’s an inside joke.” Simon tells her dismissively. He didn’t want to explain that Nathan had purposefully tried to act like he didn’t know Simon’s name just to mess with him and it turned into a nickname somehow.

“Are you Simon’s boyfriend?” Lizzie asks casually.

“Piss off!” Simon insists.

“I’m telling mum you swore.” Lizzie sings, Simon rolls his eyes and scrubs his hands down his face in irritation and mortification. “So are you?”

“Am I what?” Nathan asks.

“Simon’s boyfriend.”

Simon peeks through his fingers, Nathan is twirling his spoon in his fingers. “Who’s Simon?”

“Come on, tell me!” Lizzie urges, pulling out a chair to sit down. “Mum specifically said not to spy on you, which she’s only said when I caught you wanking that one time. Which means you’re probably having sex.”

“Hold on!” Nathan is smirking, eyes darting from Lizzie to Simon and back.

“Please leave.” Simon groans, hiding his face in his arms on the table.

“I promise I won’t tell dad, just tell me.”

“All right, we’re boyfriends.” Nathan says, and Simon’s heart feels like it pulses in his chest like it’s been pierced.

“Really?” Lizzie asks, Simon peeks out of his arms hesitantly.

“Really, but don’t go tellin’ nobody or I’ll be forced to show you the business end of these.” He holds up his fists, though he looks no more threatening than Lizzie likely would doing the same thing.

Lizzie just laughs, though Nathan doesn’t seem very offended. He just goes back to his cereal, drinking milk from the bowl. Like he hasn’t rocked Simon’s world, like he hasn’t turned everything upside down with a casual statement. Surely, he wasn’t serious, he was just humoring Lizzie. But he can’t help but want it to be true, how pathetic is that?

“How old are you?” Lizzie leans her cheek in her hand.

“Twenty.” Nathan replies, and- Simon hadn’t known that.

“Where did you meet Simon?”

“Community service.” Nathan fires back.

“What did you do to get community service?”

“Ate some pick-n-mix.”

Lizzie pauses, looking at Nathan in disbelief. “Just for eating pick-n-mix?”

“Yep.” Nathan says, setting his bowl aside on the counter. Lizzie looks at Simon for confirmation, he just shrugs.

“Simon tried to burn someone’s house down then peed through their mail slot.” If there was a God, he’s likely got it out for Simon, that’s the only reasoning for this conversation.

“See I think he left that last part out.” Nathan shoots Simon a look that would put a shark to shame, a sharp smile that promises mischief later.

“Th-There was a cat inside, I didn’t know they had… had a cat.” Simon defends himself.

“So you took a leak in their mail slot because they had a cat.” Nathan deadpans, obviously still fucking with Simon.

Lizzie smirks at Nathan. “Simon loves cats, we used to have one, but she died.”

“Was fire or urination involved?”

“No, she just got old.”

“Boring!” Nathan fakes a yawn, then walks over to the table where Simon is sat. “C’mon, let’s go do something fun like break something or set something on fire. You seem to like doing that.”

Before Simon can respond, his phone begins to ring. He picks it up, pressing the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”

“ _Where the fuck are you two, we were looking for you all night!_ ” Kelly yells over the phone, Simon winces and pulls the phone away from his ear.

“We-We’re at my place, Nathan’s phone died and mine was on silent.” He admits.

“ _Put Nathan on the phone_.”

Simon frowns, then looks up where Nathan was busy making faces at Lizzie. “It’s Kelly.” He hands the phone over.

“Rise and shine, beautiful, hope you had a better night than I did.” Nathan grins into the phone, then he looks briefly annoyed. “All right, calm down, don’t have a cow! What are you, my mum?”

Simon watches Nathan’s face fall, all the humor leaves his expression. “What?”

Nathan looks lost as he gazes down at the table in front of him. “M-Maybe it wasn’t him, maybe…” He looks desperate for a moment, looks to Simon with pleading eyes, but he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on let alone an answer.

Quiet, then Nathan blinks a few times, eyes glassy and wet. “No, yeah, thanks. Right, it’s whatever.” He says gently, then snaps the phone shut and sinks down into the chair next to Simon.

“Lizzie, go play in your room.” Simon says firmly, and the girl must understand that this is serious because she hesitates only a second before scurrying off. “What’s going on?”

Nathan stares at the phone resting on the table in front of him, his bottom lip quivers slightly. He turns his head to look Simon in the eye, a tear breaks from his eyelashes and dampens his lower eyelid.

“Jamie’s dead.”

_Oh._


	9. Mourning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hey y'all, I know it's been a hot minute. But I was actually without power for like twenty-three days after Hurricane Laura, and I still don't have internet so I'm using a mobile hotspot to upload this. I'm safe, we have a small hole in our roof and ceiling, but we can still live in the house. My college also just restarted up, despite nobody having good internet access. So things are kind of hectic around here, just be patient with me.
> 
> Anyways, I already started the next chapter. I hope you like this one! I'm gonna put a trigger warning description at the bottom of the chapter if you want to check that out. )

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and Simon had no clue as to what he was meant to do. What do you say to someone who lost a brother he met a day ago? In the quiet, the ticking of the clock in the living room is the only sound being made nearby. Nathan hasn’t begun to cry, nor have his eyes dried of their glossy sheen of tears either. He’s just sitting there, staring at Simon’s phone with a lost little frown on his face.

Simon debates reaching out, touching Nathan, but maybe that’s not a very good idea. A normal person would be able to offer words of comfort, but all speech seems to escape Simon as he sits helplessly next to his best mate. He wants to ask what happened, how Kelly knows that Jamie is dead. But he doesn’t want to hurt Nathan any further, so he just keeps his mouth shut.

Would Lizzie be any better at this? Would it be even mildly appropriate to get his little sister to deal with the grief of his best friend for him?

“I should-” Nathan’s eyes search the table as he sits up straight. “Right, yeah.” He stands, wiping at his eye with a boney knuckle briefly.

“Are you all right?” It’s the first words he’s managed to conjure up and they sound pathetic and meaningless coming from his mouth. He gets to his feet, now they both are standing in front of the table like idiots.

Nathan jerks a little, his head twisting towards Simon but his gaze managing to not even get near the younger’s face. “Pshh, yeah, it’s not like I really knew the bloke.” He mutters, uselessly fidgeting with his shirt.

“He was your brother.” He murmurs, Nathan nods his head.

“Yeah, I guess.” He’s still nodding, eyes darting around as if searching for somewhere to hide. “Should probably go talk to my dad, they met too. Jamie… He hit him with a toaster and put him in the boot of his car.” He laughs, but it sounds weak and humorless.

“What?” Simon’s lip curls back automatically with confusion.

Nathan lets out another laugh, eyes still damp. “Y-Yeah, he went to talk to my dad first. Ended up bashing his head in because he was acting like a twat, he probably… Probably deserved it.” He nods, a tear drips from the corner of his eye.

There’s more quiet, painful but luckily not as lasting as before. Then Nathan finally looks at Simon, his jaw flexing uncomfortably. “What am I supposed to do?” He asks weakly.

Simon flounders for a moment. “I-I…” He doesn’t honestly know, he probably couldn’t figure out his own emotions in a situation like this let alone someone else’s.

“I should go.” Nathan says, and then they both stare at each other. “Right? That’s what I should do, I should leave.” He doesn’t move from his spot.

“You don’t have to.” Simon manages, his hands twitch at his sides, then he reaches up gingerly towards Nathan’s shoulder.

Nathan’s shoulder stiffens and his face crumples slightly.

Simon’s body tenses when Nathan jerks forward, but then his arms are full of the taller boy. Nathan makes himself small, tucking his face into Simon’s shoulder and hugging him tight. Simon hesitates briefly, but then returns the hug. Nathan’s shaking a bit, his breath is ragged, and his fists are bunching up Simon’s shirt in the back.

“If you need to go see your dad, I’ll come with you.” He offers quietly, Nathan’s head shifts on his shoulder.

“Can we stay here?” He mumbles.

Simon thinks about what his mum said, about how she’ll be home tonight. She might pry, Lizzie most definitely will. But right now, he’s not worried about that, he just wants Nathan to stop shaking. He wants Nathan to stop sounding so lost and scared, he wants to make sure Nathan is okay.

“Of course.”

-

They spend the morning watching movies, Nathan cuddled up against Simon like the night before. He doesn’t have much to say, neither does Simon honestly. But he wraps an arm around Nathan to make sure he knows that he’ll be there for him, even if he doesn’t have the words for this sort of scenario. Eventually, between one movie and the next, Nathan sits up.

“Look, I don’t think you should tag along.” He explains, not even remotely glancing in Simon’s direction as he puts his shoes on.

“Oh.” He tries not to feel too hurt, it’s probably not personal. He doesn’t have a right to join Nathan on such an intimate journey. “All right.”

“He…” Nathan sighs, shaking his head and leaning forward further to retie his sneaker. “He’s just a prick.”

Simon wants to object, say that’s the whole reason he should go with Nathan. This is the man that accused his son of attention-seeking when he was abused as a child. But he respects Nathan’s wishes, and simply leans back against his headboard. “Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around, then?” He stands up from the bed.

“Uh-huh.” He agrees quietly, and then Nathan is gone.

-

Nathan is on Simon’s mind for the rest of the day. He stays mostly cooped up in his room scrolling through web pages. He knows that Nathan needs his space, but the memory of those dewy green eyes makes him worry. His mother comes home and makes dinner, and they eat quietly, awkwardly. It’s only after a round of Mario Kart with Lizzie that he’s started to take his mind off the entire thing.

Of course, that’s when his phone starts ringing. When he checks the screen, Nathan’s name is there in bright white letters. He pauses the game and stands up without a word, answering the phone and heading outside through the front door.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey_ ,” Nathan’s voice is quiet on the line. “ _How’s it hangin’_?”

“Uh,” He glances one way down the street and the other as he walks down his front steps. “F-Fine, um… Yeah, fine.”

“ _Good._ ” A long quiet, Nathan clears his throat but says nothing else.

“How did seeing your dad go?” He asks politely, because he’s unsure as to exactly what Nathan wants.

“ _He was a prick, as usual…_ ” He can’t be sure over the phone, but Nathan sounds a bit funny.

“Oh.”

“ _Look, I just… Something happened._ ” He says a bit breathily. “ _And I don’t really know what to do_.”

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Simon questions warily.

“ _Who?_ ”

“Your dad.”

“ _No, you twat. I’m not the one with a homicide fetish here!_ ” Nathan snaps.

Simon rolls his eyes. “I don’t _have_ -”

“ _I know, I know._ ” Nathan sighs, seemingly tired. “ _I saw Jamie._ ”

“At the morgue?” His lip curls up slightly.

“ _No._ ” Nathan sounds so small, so scared. “ _Round my dad’s place, he was just standing there. My dad didn’t say anything, and Jamie saw me lookin’ at him and started trying to talk to me and I booked it out of there. I think I’m losing it, Barry._ ”

Simon’s eyes widen as he hears this story. “Where are you?”

“ _Couple blocks from your place_ ,” Nathan admits, then quickly continues. “ _I wasn’t trying to come over or nothin’, I know that’d be weird. I just didn’t want to…_ ” His voice trails off and he sighs.

Simon remains quiet, hoping that his silence forces Nathan to finish his sentence.

“ _Barry?_ ” Nathan’s voice is soft, vulnerable. “ _You still there?_ ”

“Y-Yeah, yeah.” He nods his head despite knowing Nathan can’t see him. “You can come over, i-if you want.”

“ _Cheers, mate._ ” And then a pause of indecisive quiet. “ _Lizzie didn’t rat to your mum about the boyfriend thing, did she?_ ”

Simon can feel a flush building on his cheeks. “Ehm, no.” He pointedly doesn’t mention that his mum came to the conclusion that they were together anyway last night.

“ _That’s good, I’m not tryin’ to get you hate crimed or nothin’_.” He clears his throat, then. “ _A-And I wasn’t takin’ the piss out of you or nothin’ either, you know that, right?_ ”

“What do you mean?”

“ _Blokes usually get mad when you insinuate they’re gay._ ” Nathan lets out a quiet chuckle into the receiver.

“I wasn’t mad.” He says quietly.

“ _Right, yeah_.” Another awkward throat-clearing noise.

He wants to ask so many more questions, to discuss this in depth, but he doesn’t know how. He curses his inability to fully communicate his intentions, because usually he just ends up talking in circles or saying something that’s taken wrong.

They stay on the phone together despite not saying anything, Nathan is extremely quiet. But Simon refuses to hang up unless Nathan asks to, though he doesn’t know why. Maybe he’s just a bit wary thinking about him walking alone at night. He still has the image of Nathan’s bloody, beaten body on that bathroom floor seared into his brain. He doesn’t want anything like that happening again. He sees Nathan coming down the street not long after and hangs up the phone now that he’s in sight.

“Hey,” Simon greets with a small wave that Nathan returns, looking distracted.

“You do believe me, about the Jamie thing, right?” Nathan asks.

Simon nods his head. “Could be another power.”

“What? Hallucinations?” Nathan scoffs.

“Seeing the dead.” Simon says, and Nathan blinks at him in surprise. “Your power does have to do with death, technically.”

“Don’t say it like that, it’s creepy.” Nathan steps a little closer, his hands are in his pockets and he looks paler than usual. “What if he’s at the funeral?”

“Jamie?” When he earns a nod, Simon shrugs. “Wouldn’t you go to your own funeral?”

“I dunno, I’ve never had one!” Nathan insists.

“You did.” Simon says, earning a puzzled look. “Private service.”

“Christ, Barry.” Nathan laughs as his face breaks into a grin, Simon smirks.

After a moment, Nathan glances away and then frowns. He reaches up and scratches at his cheek, maybe it’s a trick of the light but he looks a bit stubbly above his lip. He looks back at Simon and stares at him for a moment, obviously thinking.

“What?”

“I don’t remember being dead.” Nathan says, chewing on the inside of his cheek briefly. “But I had to be, I was.”

“Maybe you can’t remember being a spirit if you come back. People who die and come back sometimes see a light or something like that.” Simon explains.

“Can we go inside?” Nathan crosses his arms, Simon nods and they head into the house together. Lizzie spots him coming in, and rushes into the hall to meet them.

“Nathan, do you want to play Mario Kart?” She asks with a big smile.

Simon looks to Nathan, he can see the cogs in his head turning. “Nathan’s not feeling well, maybe another time.”

“Oh.” The disappointment on her face makes Simon feel genuinely guilty.

“Rain check, yeah?” Nathan says with a small smile.

“Okay.” Lizzie nods her head, seeming a little less upset. She walks off back into the living room.

Simon spots his mother peeking through the door to the kitchen. He heads up the stairs, not meeting her eyes. Nathan follows him up and he shuts them into his room. Simon grabs his laptop and sets it onto the bed, moving to his shelf to look for a DVD. Nothing with ghosts, probably.

He grabs Hannibal, because it’s pretty good and Nathan had made a reference to it before and hadn’t even seen it. He sets up the laptop and pulls up the movie, pausing it before it starts and then moving to take off his shoes and socks. When he looks over at Nathan, he’s just sitting on the bed, looking despondent.

“You… I mean, do you want to stay the night again?” He asks, snapping Nathan out of his daze.

“You aren’t sick of me?” Nathan jokes with a small smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Insecurity lies there, Simon thinks.

“No.” He answers honestly, then walks over to the dresser. “You want to change?”

“Uh, sure.” Nathan looks out of his element, but they both undress and get into more comfortable clothes.

He lends Nathan a pair of pajama bottoms, and doesn’t mention the fact that he decided on going shirtless. They go and brush their teeth; Simon finds a spare toothbrush for Nathan. It feels familiar despite having never done it before, Nathan makes a face at him in the mirror with a mouth full of foam. They retreat to the hallway, and Simon stops at Lizzie’s bedroom to peek in on her.

She’s fast asleep. He tries to be a good big brother, especially considering their parents aren’t really the best. They love Lizzie, most days he’s sure they love her more than him. But they aren’t the best parents, never have been too emotionally available.

“She sleepin’?” Nathan’s voice is at his back, Simon nods his head.

When they get back into the room, Simon shuts off the light and they climb into bed. Simon settles the laptop where they both can see it. He doesn’t comment on Nathan pressing his cheek to Simon’s shoulder the second he’s still. They’re quiet through the first ten or so minutes, but eventually Nathan starts making quiet comments and asking questions. Simon answers him, tells him about the intricacies of the film, the behind the scenes facts. Nathan listens, makes jokes, and seems to relax as the movie plays on.

“Barry?”

“Mm?”

“Jamie’s funeral is tomorrow.”

Simon waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Nathan adjusts his head on his shoulder, sighs. “If you’re not busy or nothin’.”

“I’d go even if I was.” Simon admits.

“Oh.”

They finish the movie, and then watch another. Nathan is still awake by the time Simon is ready to call it a night, so he gets up to put the laptop on his desk so it can charge. He fidgets with it a bit longer than he usually might, and when he turns back around Nathan is curled up watching him.

“Your mum’s not gonna get weird about this if she sees us, is she?” Nathan asks as Simon climbs into bed. “I can throw myself onto the floor if I hear her coming.” He offers.

“N-No, she already saw us… Last night.” He admits, laying down facing Nathan. Their faces are inches apart, Nathan’s breath smells like Simon’s toothpaste.

“She didn’t freak out?” Nathan looks surprised, if not wary.

“I don’t think she cares enough to be angry. She didn’t even care when I got arrested.” He admits, pulling the blanket up to his shoulder.

“What about your dad?” Nathan has a small frown on his face.

“He cares about his image, I think.” He murmurs. “Didn’t visit when I was taken to hospital for evaluation.”

“I’d visit you in the nuthouse, Barry.” Nathan says quietly, they both share small smirks. “Honest. Those places get boring.”

“What do you mean?” Simon frowns.

“Well,” Nathan looks nervous then, he lets out a small unsure chuckle. “I just figured.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t quite believe Nathan, but he doesn’t want to push him either.

They fall quiet for a minute, Nathan is staring down at the sheets.

“I don’t want you to think I’m pussy or somethin’.” He eventually says, not looking up.

Simon swallows, shifts his legs under the sheets. “I don’t.”

“I just… I freaked out a bit, after I got out of school.” He says quietly, shaking his head. “I took a bunch of pills, it was stupid. Everyone overreacted, I got locked up for a bit.”

Simon reaches across the mattress, finds Nathan’s wrist and squeezes it gently. “I don’t think it’s stupid.”

“I’m not depressed or nothin’, so don’t get worried I’m gonna off myself or something.” He mutters as he pulls his hand out of Simon’s grip, his voice sounding a bit thick.

He doubts that Nathan isn’t depressed, anyone likely would be after all he’s been through. Parents who obviously don’t care all that much, if at all. Childhood sexual abuse, being kicked out of his house and living in a community centre. Being beaten to death and coming back, waking up in a grave and having to dig himself out. Hell, they could be just merely scratching the surface. Maybe somewhere down the line Nathan will admit other traumas, deeper and hidden, things he might not have even registered as trauma. Nathan is a broken man, and Simon understands what it’s like to be hiding cracks beneath his skin.

“If you were, you could tell me.” Simon says, and Nathan lets out a quiet huff of disbelief. “I’m serious, you can tell me anything.”

“Right, yeah, whatever.” Nathan is obviously embarrassed, more so than his last confession. He turns over, facing away from him. Simon lets it drop, and they’re quiet once again.

He’s a bit startled when Nathan speaks up, having thought that he was going to bed. “You could too.”

“What?” He scoots a bit closer.

“If you wanted.” Nathan says a bit louder, still facing away from him. “You could… Y’know… Talk to me. About anythin’, whatever.”

Simon smiles. “Thanks.”

“And y’know, if you wanted to be more comfortable, you could…” He makes a gesture with his arm.

“Spoon you?” Simon finds himself grinning a bit.

“Don’t get cheeky, you pervy wanker.” Nathan snaps, reaching back and grabbing his arm. Simon moves up against his back, wraps an arm around him and settles his head on Nathan’s pillow. “Good night, Barry.” He huffs, even though he’s cuddling Simon’s arm to his chest.

“Good night, Nate.” He replies, a bit smugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Trigger Warning! In this chapter there is a brief mention of Nathan's sexual abuse, and a past suicide attempt and hospitalization. Nathan claims he isn't depressed and that he won't kill himself in his usual, nonchalant way. Nothing graphic, but I still include these to make sure y'all are safe. )
> 
> ( I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you did be sure to leave a kudos if you haven't and a comment if you have the time! I love reading you guys' comments, it keeps me chugging along! )


	10. A Funeral, A Tattoo, and the Start of Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Okay so I didn't really plan where this was going, but I ended up getting to a point where I felt like this was the end. I dunno if I'll continue this and maybe make a second part and have it be a two part series or something but I feel like this is a good stopping point. So we're gonna call this the final chapter! It's pretty long compared to the others, so I hope that makes up for it a little. I thought about breaking this into two chapters, but I couldn't find a good stopping point where each of them would be a decent length.
> 
> Enjoy! )

The funeral wasn’t much, a quiet little service with some friends and family. Simon wore his regular clothes, as did Nathan, and they stood in the far back away from anyone else. The woman he assumed was Jamie’s mother sobbed throughout the whole thing, it was a closed casket ceremony.

Apparently, he had burned to death in a car fire. It made Simon wonder if Nathan could recover from any death, if there would be any permanent damage left behind in any severe circumstances. A stab wound is one thing, but being burned to death… How painful would that be, to wake up from the dead charred to a crisp? The thought makes him shudder.

Nathan doesn’t cry, he just looks vaguely uncomfortable the whole time. They don’t really talk, trying not to garner too much attention. Once Jamie’s casket has been brought to the cemetery and lowered into the ground, people start to disperse.

“Do you see him?” Simon finally chances asking Nathan, keeping his voice down.

“Yeah,” Nathan nods, and Simon is surprised. He glances around, searching for any glimpse of a ghost, as if he might see it himself. “He’s standing over by that tree.” He gestures with his chin, Simon follows his eyeline to see a tree about twenty feet away.

“Nathan.” They both turn their heads, finding an older man approaching. He’s got sandy curly hair, and he’s rather short, but Simon realizes this must be Nathan’s father. Not at all what he pictured, to be honest. “I’m glad you came.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Nathan tells him stiffly.

“Who’s this then?” He asks, glancing over at Simon.

“Like you care.”

Nathan’s father sighs, disgruntled. “Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?”

“I suppose it’s just one of those questions! Why is the sky blue? Why did my deadbeat dad leave? I dunno, I suppose we’ll never know the answer!” Nathan gestures broadly, venom in his words.

“Do you really want to have a row in front of your brother’s grave?”

Simon thinks he deserves the punch Nathan lands on him, winces as the man staggers and nearly stumbles into a gravestone. “Fuck you! Because of you, I didn’t know he existed until two days ago! And now he’s fucking gone and it’s all your fault!” He shouts.

“You always have someone to blame, don’t you?” He snaps as he rights himself, rubbing at his cheek. Simon feels a bit of anger swirl in his chest.

“Fuck you.” Nathan’s voice sounds close to breaking.

“You said yourself, you were at that club. You left him there.” Nathan lunges for him and the man is more prepared this time around, he dodges Nathan’s fist and backhands him.

Nathan stumbles back from the impact, and Simon feels that overprotective urge well in his chest. Simon reaches out and yanks Nathan back behind him, he winds back and steps forward all in one move. His fist collides with the older man’s nose, he does fall over a grave this time. He lands on his ass, a small stream of blood dripping from one nostril. He hisses and wipes at his lip.

“Barry!” Nathan sounds surprised.

“You don’t _know_ Nathan. You don’t _deserve_ to know him.” He says, fists clenched at his side, one throbbing from the punch he threw. “Stay away from him, or _else_.” He says firmly, anger against this man searing in his chest.

He turns around, finding Nathan rubbing at his reddened cheek with something akin to shock in his eyes. He hopes he hasn’t overstepped, but honestly the guy needed to get knocked down a peg. Nathan might have hit first but blaming him for Jamie’s death is crossing the line. Plus, Nathan did call him his bodyguard, what good is he if he stands back and lets him get hurt?

“Are you all right?” He asks, Nathan nods and lowers his hand. “Ready to go?”

Nathan casts a look back towards the tree, where he had said Jamie was. He hesitantly raises a hand, waving for a second, looking sad. He then turns back to Simon; his cheek is red and there’s a sort of scratch where his father’s ring dragged across his cheek and removed a bit of skin. The sight of it makes him want to turn around and pummel Nathan’s dad a little more thoroughly, but he knows that won’t get him anything but an assault charge.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Nathan says, turning and heading out of the cemetery.

Simon follows him, glancing over to the tree as they get further away. He thinks for a second that he sees a shadow standing just under the tree, but then it’s gone, and he can’t tell if it was his mind just playing tricks on him or not. Nathan’s dad smartly doesn’t follow them. They leave without any other problems and take the bus back home.

“That was totally badass.” Nathan tells him after they’re on the bus, grinning from ear to ear. “You were like wham!” He swings playfully into the air, eyes wide with excitement. “You didn’t even hesitate, you cleaned his clock, Barry!”

Simon is flush with the praise, feeling rather proud of himself. “It was nothing.”

“You were like the main character of some action movie! You sounded so butch!” Nathan gushes, grabbing Simon’s jacket and tugging on it. “Stay away from him, _or else_.” He makes his voice sound a bit gruffer as he imitates Simon.

“I did not sound like that.” He scoffs, Nathan snickers.

“You so did, it was fantastic!” Nathan nudges him with his arm, still grinning.

-

Simon walks out of the bathroom and heads into the main hall of the community centre, finding Nathan standing on a table and gesturing wildly. He’s obviously in the middle of a story, Simon smirks at the sight of him. Nathan had pretty much returned to normal, it felt special to know that Simon knew a secret part of Nathan though. As he approaches, Kelly glances back at him, giving him a a curious look.

“What?” He asks.

“And then he just went apeshit and sucker-punched him!” Nathan punches the air a few times for effect, and Simon rolls his eyes as he realizes the story Nathan is telling. “Then he said, ‘Stay away from him, or I’ll rip your head off and shit down your neck!’ and spit on him!”

“No way.” Curtis waves him off, looking over at Simon. “He’s lyin’, right?”

“I didn’t spit on him,” Simon says, adjusting his collar uncomfortably.

“You punched his dad?” Kelly asks, eyes wide.

Simon offers an awkward nod, reaching up to smooth down his hair. He had straightened it this morning, out of habit. Nathan hadn’t said anything, and he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not about that. He missed Nathan’s hands in his hair.

At everyone’s mildly stunned looks, he shrugs. “He hit Nate.”

“Nate?” Alisha asks with a small grin.

Nathan makes a noise like a buzzer going off, jumping down from the table. “Only my bodyguard gets to call me that, it’s a privilege earned by punching my dad.” He wraps an arm around Simon’s shoulders.

Simon doesn’t mention the fact that he started calling him that before all that, they don’t need to know that. Though, the look Kelly is giving him tells him she already knows that.

“Bodyguard, right.” Curtis smirks, nudging Alisha, they share amused looks.

“You’re just mad you don’t have a Barry.” Nathan insists, turning his nose up at them. “Come on, mate, let’s go smoke a joint out back.”

“I don’t smoke.” Simon says, though he’s following him already.

-

Kelly mentions getting her tattoo touched up, and Nathan invites himself to tag along. Simon nearly goes home, the thought of watching someone get anything tattoo related done might make him feel sick. But then Nathan saying he should go too, doing that thing where he wraps his arm around Simon’s neck and pulls him into his side. He knows he probably needs to start telling Nathan no, or he might get carried away with having Simon wrapped around his finger. But he can’t help it, he’s a downright sucker for that stupidly handsome face.

He pointedly ignores any looks Kelly sends his way while they’re all walking together. He knows he’s had more than one errant thought about that ridiculous grin, those wild curls, the way he crinkles his nose and squints his eyes when he thinks he’s being cute. He is cute, he’s very cute, and Simon doesn’t want anyone to know that he thinks that, but Kelly keeps side-eying him, and he might just burst into flames from embarrassment.

The tattoo shop is very… Interesting? There are lots of pictures of tattoos in interesting places, but Simon’s never put much thought into tattoos. Needles made him nervous, he used to cry at the doctors getting shots. Opting to have a needle repeatedly stabbed into his skin seems a bit crazy, in his opinion.

Nathan has tattoos, little ones that look like they were drunk decisions or done with a homemade tattoo machine, or both. He thinks they’re interesting, too, because they’re Nathan’s. But he doesn’t like the thought of getting one of his own, he can’t think of any image important enough to permanently ink it into his skin.

“That’s your cock?!” Nathan sounds aghast, staring at the tattoo artist, Vince, with horror. The picture on the wall is a penis with barbed wire wrapped around it, which makes Simon’s own crotch feel especially vulnerable just looking at it.

“It represents how I felt when my girlfriend left me.” Vince explains, looking miffed.

“You couldn’t just sleep with a prostitute like everyone else?” Nathan asks, Simon turns his head away and tries not to smile.

“My tattoos mean something to me, every image I get tattooed has meaning.”

“I’m more of a ‘get black-out and pick one out at the shop’ kinda guy.” Nathan admits, which just proves Simon’s previous thoughts.

“Simon, you should get one.” Kelly says from the chair, he turns his head and sees her smiling at him.

“I have a phobia of needles.” He admits.

“What would you get if you didn’t?” Nathan asks, looking at another picture of a tattoo nearby.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, had never thought about it before. “I like butterflies.”

“Gay!” Nathan says with a grin, Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t take it personally. Nathan then points to a flower tattoo. “Think I could pull that one off?”

“Where?” Simon questions, staring at the rose intensely. It’s pretty.

“My ass cheek.” Nathan replies with a laugh, Simon snickers.

He turns his head and realizes that Vince has that exact tattoo on his neck and doesn’t look happy. He ducks his head and nudges Nathan, who looks to him in confusion, he nods his head over to Vince. Nathan glances over his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry man.” He says. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I’m guessing you’re going to anyway.” Vince says tightly.

“Does it get weird when you’re tattooing some guy’s cock, like having to touch it and shit?”

“I’m a professional,” Vince replies with a glare.

“That’s a yes.” Nathan wags a finger and turns away, turning back to the flower tattoo. “It kinda looks like a fanny.”

“Do you always talk this much?” Vince demands.

“Pretty much.” Nathan admits easily.

“I’m almost finished, why don’t you guys wait outside?” Kelly says.

Nathan steps closer to the tattoo chair and the instruments. “What’s this?”

Simon inhales sharply when he knocks something off the nearby table, and whatever it was shatters on the floor. Immediately, Vince is on his feet and snatching a fistful of Nathan’s collar, yanking him forward. Simon moves forward, holds out a hand in a gesture that he hopes comes off as both as a warning and a chance at peace.

“Vince, don’t.” Kelly insists, though she doesn’t seem to be jumping in to defend Nathan all that readily. Simon wonders why, she usually gets all protective when someone wants to hurt one of them.

He doesn’t want to fight this guy, but he knows if it came down to it, he’d fight pretty much anyone on Nathan’s behalf. Maybe Simon has a death wish, or maybe he’s just an idiot. Nathan surely is for pissing this guy off so badly. But he’s sort of Simon’s idiot, and that unfortunately means being ready to fist fight anyone who tries to hurt Nathan. He should probably take a self-defense class or something to hone his fighting skills, he’s been involved in one too many physical altercations lately.

“Let him go.” He says quietly.

“Getting your boyfriend to fight your battles for you?” Vince sneers at Nathan, his hand still holding the young man by the shirt.

“Why does everyone keep assuming that?” Nathan demands. “Also it’s a bit suspicious, being homophobic and having your cock tattooed like that. Seems like a repression thing.”

“You’re dead.”

Before Vince can do anything, Simon presses his hand to the man’s chest. “I’m warning you.”

“You should really listen to him, man.” He lowers his voice into a faux whisper. “He’s a little…” He spins his finger up near his temple, baring his teeth in an exaggerated grimace.

“Look, why don’t you guys wait for me outside?” Kelly suggests. She gets closer and puts a hand on Vince’s arm gently and-

Oh.

She likes him.

“And leave you with Punchy McCreepy? I think the fuck not.” Nathan objects immediately, despite the fact that he’s still in the man’s grip.

“Are you really willing to get laid out for this prick?” Vince barely glances to Simon, before his eyes are back on Nathan, gaze full of rage.

He knows it’s nowhere near what Simon is capable of, somehow. Even if Simon gets knocked on his ass, even if he gets beat bloody, nothing will deter him. He’ll come back tomorrow, the next day, train for weeks, months. He’ll win, because he’s persistent, because he’s dedicated. Because he won’t let anyone hurt Nathan anymore, he won’t stand for it. He will dig another grave if he has to, and that’s why he’s confident that this man doesn’t stand a chance.

Simon pushes his hand into Vince’s chest, shoving him back. “Don’t.” He says firmly through gritted teeth.

“You gonna fight me for him, then?” Vince lets go of Nathan, and then he’s stepping closer, toe to toe with Simon. He’s taller, but Simon just glares up at him, doesn’t back down or cower.

“Look, mate, I didn’t mean to break your… Whatever the fuck that was.” Nathan gestures over to the remains of whatever he had knocked over. “What do you say we save the blood and teeth for some other time and just call it a day?”

“Nathan’s right, just stop.” Kelly insists.

“What do you think, mate?” Vince’s glare is still locked in Simon’s, there’s a slight upturn to his mouth. “Friends?”

Simon feels a small burning sensation on his wrist, he steps back with a small frown. Vince’s expression makes him uncomfortable, and suddenly he just wants to go home. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys.” Kelly says, though she doesn’t look all that happy.

He is out the door in seconds, Nathan hot on his heels. He itches at his arm through his sleeve, wondering if he maybe got bit by something. He can only push his sleeve up slightly, but the skin looks red where he can see it. It itches, must have been a bug or something.

“That was a bit awkward, wasn’t it?” Nathan laughs uncomfortably.

Simon stares out at the sidewalk beyond, the buildings, and tries to remember what he was thinking about a moment ago. His mind is blank, he slowly turns his head to look at Nathan. He’s watching Simon, looking mildly guilty. He scuffs his sneaker against the pavement, glancing away. Any normal person would be angry, or at least irritated, but Simon can’t find it in him.

“I hate how much I like you sometimes.” The words escape him like a rush of water.

Nathan’s head snaps up, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Simon feels his chest tighten up again, wondering why he would say something like that. He hadn’t meant to, it just sort of came out.

“W-What?” Nathan’s eyes dart around, nervous and confused.

“I-I just…” Simon’s mouth stumbles over itself slightly, he feels funny. “I think about you, nearly all the time. I think about your smile, and y-your laugh, and…” His throat is dry, he feels dizzy.

Nathan’s eyes have managed to get even bigger somehow, he thinks. His cheeks are starting to get pink; Simon’s own face feels like it’s burning, melting. His heart is beating faster and faster, but he can’t stop, can’t…

“I’ve never had a friend like you and I’m afraid of ruining everything. I don’t want you to hate me, I don’t…” He shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

Stupid, so stupid, stop talking!

“I love you.” He croaks out pitifully, feels the warm tears spilling down his cheeks.

The door opens and Kelly comes out, freezing up at the sight of Simon crying. Nathan looks sad, looks embarrassed, looks… He can’t even tell. Simon doesn’t want to hear his rejection; he can’t handle it right now. He shoves past Nathan, fleeing the scene as fast as he can. He can hear Kelly and Nathan calling after him, tears blurring his vision as he sprints away. He only stops when the stitch in his side forces him to, lungs burning with the exertion.

He ignores two calls from Nathan before deciding to shut his phone off. He ends up back at the community centre somehow, sinking down at the first table he reaches. His legs feel like jelly, and when he holds up his hands to look at them, they’re shaking. He curls them into fists, breathing shakily as more tears pool in his eyes. He feels like throwing up.

How could he have ruined everything so suddenly, so idiotically? At least before he could pretend, could wish and hope that Nathan would want something like he did in return. But he opened his mouth and all that rubbish came spilling out, his innermost thoughts that he never dared to share.

Simon buries his face in his arms on the table, hoping to muffle the sob that wrenches its way from his throat. He hates himself, the anger burning deep in his stomach. He would have to face Nathan eventually, and the possibilities of what the other might do terrifies him. He could tell everybody, and they would all make fun of him, drop him, and then he’d be back to being alone. He could just stop hanging around Simon, ignore him. He might even give him a genuine heartfelt rejection, because they were friends, real friends.

He doesn’t know which one would hurt worse.

He doesn’t know how long he sits like that, mulling over what could have possibly possessed him to spill his guts and all the awful things that would likely come as consequence of it.

“Barry?” He tenses up, doesn’t dare lift his head. “Come on, Barry.” Nathan’s voice is quiet, Simon can feel and hear him sitting down at the table next to him.

Simon remains stationary, hoping that maybe Nathan might give up and walk away. He can’t look at him right now, he’s too ashamed. So they just sit there like that, for what seems like an eternity. Eventually, Nathan’s hand presses to his back, resting there gingerly.

“I’m gonna be honest, I have no fuckin’ clue what to say right now.” Nathan says, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Can you maybe say something, and I’ll go off that?” The fingers of the hand on his back tap at him.

Simon slowly removes himself from his arms, sitting up and wiping at his face. His skin feels raw and tight, eyes burning and dry, he sniffs against congested sinuses. Simon can’t manage to look at Nathan, afraid to see pity on the other’s face. He adjusts his sleeves and itches at his wrist again. Nathan removes his hand from his back.

“Sorry.” Simon mutters.

Nathan sighs. “Barry,” He pauses for a second, gathering his thoughts. “I figured we weren’t going to talk about this.”

“What?” Simon chances a side glance, cautious. Nathan is staring at the table thoughtfully.

“About us, about… This.” Nathan says in frustration, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know how… Shit!”

Nathan drops his face in his hands, Simon turns his head to look at him fully this time. Eventually, he drops his hands away with another heavy sigh.

“I fancy you, all right?” Nathan blurts, sounding annoyed at the concept.

Simon blinks at the other, who is pointedly looking the other direction now, showing the younger the back of his head. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again!” Nathan complains, then slowly turns to look at him.

“You’re not making fun of me, are you?” Simon asks warily, afraid that this might somehow be one of Nathan’s sick twisted jokes.

“You’re such a twat, Barry.” His lips twitch a little, cheeks flushing a darker color. “Unless you want me to call you, y’know, _Simon_.”

“Y-You’d do that?” Simon questions with a small tilt of his head.

Nathan smiles then, shaky and nervous. “I _fancy_ you. Simon.”

“You know,” Simon rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “I kind of like Barry better.”

“Yeah?” Nathan’s smile turns into a grin. “Nate’s really starting to grow on me, too.”

Simon reaches out his hand, Nathan slides his palm into the other’s and squeezes it. They sit there like that for a minute or so, holding each other’s hand gingerly and staring out at the lake nearby. It’s quiet, all the weight on Simon’s shoulders is starting to slide away. He feels that itch again, and sighs as he pulls his hand away from Nathan’s. He starts to unbutton his shirt sleeve.

“What are you doing?” Nathan sounds vaguely amused.

“I think something bit me.” He rolls up his sleeve. There on the inside of his wrist, is a small red anatomically correct heart, the skin around it pink with irritation.

“Whoa, when’d you get that?” Nathan’s lips start to stretch into a grin as he takes Simon’s wrist in his hand, then he frowns. “I thought you said you were afraid of needles?”

“I _am_ ,” He stares down at the tattoo with concern. “I don’t know where it came from.”

“Weird.” Nathan mutters, then gasps in realization. Simon looks up at him as he scrambles from the table. “That tattoo dicked prick, he must have powers!”

“The power to tattoo people without actually tattooing them.” Simon says in a deadpan, slightly disbelieving.

“No, no, like…” Nathan looks stricken, then, and he steps back over to the table and deflates onto the bench once more. “Barry?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you might have just said some stuff that you didn’t really mean.” Nathan looks over at him, eyes glimmering sadly. “He must have tattooed you to fall in love with me, to fuck with us.”

“No!” Simon denies immediately, Nathan doesn’t seem swayed. “I felt like this before, I just…” He pauses, frowns.

“Shit.” Nathan mumbles, sounding sad. He starts to get up, Simon grabs his arm.

“I didn’t want to say it, b-but I meant it.” He says, Nathan looks back at him with the same uncertainty Simon had when he admitted his own feelings. “I was afraid to say it, a-and then it all just came out. I couldn’t stop it.”

“Prove it.” Nathan pulls his wrist away, crossing his arms.

Simon wracks his brain for a moment, unsure of what he can do. Then, it hits him. “K-Kelly, she’s known for a while, you can ask her.”

“Oh, fuck.” Nathan hisses, eyes widening.

“What?”

“She was actin’ weird after you ran off, said she was gonna give Vince a second chance and all this shit about him being such a great guy!” He exclaims, looking away in horror. “I thought she was just being a bitch, but he must have tattoo brainwashed her too!”

“We have to help her.” Simon stands up. Before he can move into action, Nathan stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He says hurriedly. “What if he tattoos our dicks or something?”

“We could call Curtis and Alisha.” Simon says after a moment of thought.

Nathan makes a snort of a noise. “So they can get their dicks tattooed too?”

“I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!” Simon snaps.

Nathan makes a face. “Are we having our first row already?”

“Wh- No!” He shakes his head incredulously, then turns to pull out his cell phone. “I’m calling the others.”

“You know, I’m getting real fed up with super powered pricks messing with us. Might be a good idea to invest in a gun, so we can just y’know…” He holds up both hands like he’s holding a gun, imitates the sound of a gun firing.

“You’re not getting a gun.” Simon says immediately as he puts the phone to his ear.

“But, Barry-” Nathan grabs at his shirt, Simon holds a finger up to his lips to signal him to be quiet. He gets a pout in return.

“ _Hello?_ ” Curtis’s voice comes over the receiver.

“We have a problem.”

-

They all file into the tattoo shop, Vince is sitting by himself cleaning his tools. He looks up at them with mild amusement, sets aside his tattoo gun. Simon doesn’t see Kelly anywhere, which is probably for the best. If she’s brainwashed, she might get in the way somehow. Though she might have to be in close proximity for him to remove the tattoo, they’ll worry about that later.

“Okay look, man. We don’t want to hurt you, just take the tattoos off and we’ll be gone.” Curtis says.

“What tattoos?” Vince questions with a small smirk.

“What do you think are the odds that killing him removes the tattoos?” Alisha asks, an obvious threat.

Vince’s face twists into a scowl. “What’d you say, bitch?”

“Remove the tattoos.” Simon demands quietly, holding his arm out to show him the heart on his arm.

“What, you didn’t like my present?” Vince inquires smartly, crossing his arms. “I figured I would loosen your tongue a little. You looked like you were just dying to suck that twat’s cock, following him around like a little puppy-”

“Leave him alone!” Nathan whips out the gun, which, yeah, they probably shouldn’t have let him be the one to hold it. But in all fairness, it is _his_ toy gun. “Take the tattoos off before I blow your brains out.”

“You gonna shoot me, big man?” Vince’s face breaks into a grin, he holds his arms out at his sides. “Have at it.”

Nathan makes a hiccup of a noise, and then blood spills from his lips and onto his chin. Simon immediately grabs at him; Nathan drops the gun and shakily reaches for his shirt. Simon pulls up Nathan’s shirt, revealing a tattoo of a knife sticking into his chest.

“You tattoo stabbed me?!” Nathan wheezes.

“You’re fucking nuts!” Alisha shouts as she moves to grab Nathan to help keep him on his feet.

Simon can see the paleness of Nathan’s face, the panic in his eyes. He might be able to die and come back, but the look of fear makes Simon’s proverbial hackles raise. Nathan meets his eyes, lips stained with his blood, and gives him a small nod. Simon understands. He turns and disappears, can see the shock on Vince’s face as he steps closer.

“Wh-Where did he go?” Vince steps back, pulls a small knife from his pocket and holds it out.

“Man, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this-” Curtis starts, Simon gets behind the man and reaches into his own pocket.

He allows himself to reappear, and with one swift, firm movement, he digs a much larger knife into the large man’s spine. Vince lets out a choked gasp of a noise, staggers forward. As he moves, Simon removes the knife and watches him sink to the ground as blood starts to seep from the wound. Vince collapses onto his stomach, motionless.

“It’s that you never fuck with Simon.” Curtis finishes with a small tilt of his head.

Simon drops the knife and moves over to Nathan, who has slid down against a wall and is sitting on the floor. There’s still blood around his mouth, but his color looks to be returning. He tiredly lifts his shirt, and the tattoo has vanished. Simon breathes a sigh of relief, giving the older boy a warm smile. Nathan reaches out shakily and takes Simon’s wrist, turning it over to show that his own tattoo is gone as well.

“Well?” Nathan’s voice is a bit hoarse; he looks up at Simon with uncertainty. “Have you snapped out of it?”

“No,” Simon smirks, shaking his head. “You are still devilishly handsome.”

“Well, everyone knows that.” Nathan scoffs, though there’s a blush rising on his cheeks. “I meant more along the lines of feelings and all that weird gushy shit. It’s cool if you don’t, I get it-”

Simon interrupts him. “Shut up and kiss me, you prick.”

Nathan’s eyes widen as Simon cups his cheek, and then they’re both leaning in to press their mouths together. Nathan’s blood is still on his lips, in his mouth, but Simon couldn’t care less. It’s no more coordinated than last time, but it’s much more involved. He allows himself to tilt his head, shut his eyes, Nathan’s arm moves up and his palm presses to the back of Simon’s head to keep him close. When they finally pull apart, they both let out shaky breaths.

Nathan lets out a nervous little laugh of a noise, his arm slides away from around his shoulder and his hand comes to rest on Simon’s chest. “You know, it’s going to be hard for anyone to beat killing someone for me as a romantic gesture.”

“Good.” Simon replies with a small smile, he reaches up hesitantly to wipe some blood from the side of Nathan’s mouth. “But you still have to help get rid of the body.”

“Aaaannnd the moment’s gone.” Nathan pushes at his chest; Simon finds himself letting out a genuine laugh as he falls back onto his ass. “All right, let’s get this prick disposed of. I have a lot of things to do tonight, and by ‘things’ I mean Barry.”

“God, I don’t know what’s worse. Them having a thing for each other or them being together.” Curtis groans, but there’s a twitch of a smile on his face.

“I’m going to call Kelly to make sure she’s all right.” Alisha chuckles, slipping out of the tattoo shop.

Nathan gets up, helping Simon to his feet in the process. They stand with Curtis, looking down at the body of the man Simon had slain. After a minute, Alisha returns with the news that Kelly is all right, so they can turn their full attention to disposal.

They bundle up the body and carry it outside, Simon turning himself, the body, and Curtis invisible as they haul the corpse away. They drag the body as far as they can and dump it in a ditch, steal his wallet, and head back to clean up the blood and any evidence of a struggle. Simon picks up the knife he had brought and cleans that off with a rag they brought.

He notices Curtis staring at him.

“You’re getting pretty good at this killing business.” He says quietly, Simon nods his head slowly. “You’re a bit twisted, you know that?”

“I’m fine with it.” Nathan interrupts, ruffles Simon’s hair and moves to crouch in front of the blood smears on the floor. “Bodyguards should be trained to kill.”

“You mean boyfriends.” Curtis teases.

Simon can feel his ears burning.

“What do you think, Barry?” Nathan looks up at him from his crouched position, eyes earnest.

“Wh-What?” He asks, a bit flustered.

Nathan’s lips stretch into a grin. “Think I’m _boyfriend_ material?”

“I-I suppose.” Simon’s palms feel sweaty, but he manages a smile anyways.

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me, huh?”

“Unfortunately.” Simon teases, Nathan reaches back and swats at his leg.

He doesn’t think he’d ever want it any other way ever again, as desperate as that sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Well, that's it! I'm really sad to see it end honestly. But, I really do feel like this is the end. I also want to maybe write some other stuff that's Nathan/Simon related, so if you have any concepts that you might want to see you can totally leave them at the bottom in the comments. AU's, one-shots, the works. I'll look through them and if I like any, I might just take a crack at it! You can also find me on Tumblr as strangerthanjonathan, and I sometimes take requests on there as well. Though I still don't have steady internet and it'll be easier to reach me through here for now. I just went through a SECOND hurricane, and things are still pretty hectic. 
> 
> Thanks so much for joining me on this journey and waiting patiently, I have loved sharing this with you and seeing your reactions to the story. Please remember to tell me if you liked it, and like I said, if you want to suggest a fic idea, feel free! Love y'all! )


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